tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23954605891085251962024-02-19T18:27:58.583-06:00A Change is as Good as a RestErika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-35047708054333821772010-01-30T00:28:00.002-06:002010-01-30T00:29:41.468-06:00How to Prevent Sexual Assault<span style="font-family: times new roman;">I found this article online, and thought it was amusing. Perhaps you will, too?<br /><br /></span><em>{The brilliant Colleen Jameson penned the following tips and generously gave permission to Girl With Pen to republish them. }</em> <p><strong>Sexual Assault Prevention Tips Guaranteed to Work!</strong><strong></strong></p> <p><strong>1.</strong> Don’t put drugs in people’s drinks in order to control their behavior.</p> <p><strong>2. </strong> When you see someone walking by themselves, leave them alone!</p> <p><strong>3.</strong> If you pull over to help someone with car problems, remember not to assault them!</p> <p><strong>4. </strong> NEVER open an unlocked door or window uninvited.</p> <p><strong>5. </strong> If you are in an elevator and someone else gets in, DON’T ASSAULT THEM!</p> <p><strong>6. </strong> Remember, people go to laundry to do their laundry, do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.</p> <p><strong>7.</strong> USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM! If you are not able to stop yourself from assaulting people, ask a friend to stay with you while you are in public.</p> <p><strong>8.</strong> Always be honest with people! Don’t pretend to be a caring friend in order to gain the trust of someone you want to assault. Consider telling them you plan to assault them. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the other person may take that as a sign that you do not plan to rape them.</p> <p><strong>9.</strong> Don’t forget: you can’t have sex with someone unless they are awake!</p> <p><strong>10</strong>. Carry a whistle! If you are worried you might assault someone “on accident” you can hand it to the person you are with, so they can blow it if you do.</p> <p>And, ALWAYS REMEMBER: if you didn’t ask permission and then respect the answer the first time, you are committing a crime- no matter how “into it” others appear to be.</p>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-39854773088125621472010-01-28T21:37:00.007-06:002010-01-29T03:21:51.481-06:00Harlem: Cat Calls and Sex Offenders<span style="font-family:times new roman;">The second day in Harlem I was walking casually down 1-2-5 to the 4,5,6 train. It was a hot August day, so I was wearing a festive little dress (which, like most things I own, was quite modest.) A guy walking opposite of me mumbled "Oh, mami. Sexy" and grabbed my ass. In Rolla, KC, or Arkansas nothing like this would be commonplace. I had an incident with a creepy old man in Little Rock, but for the most part I have rarely been treated so crudely. I remember thinking "Oh, great. This is what it's going to be like. all. the. time." Luckily this wasn't quite the case, but life was still extremely different.<br /><br />Before making the move people often warned me. They would say things like "Be careful on the streets there, girl." Or "Don't venture over to Spanish Harlem too often. The men will eat you alive there." I listened to their advice, but can't say I quite understood it at the time. Now I know.<br /><br />Walking down Lenox or 1-2-5 (or 125th street to outsiders, *ahem*) it's common to hear at least a few catcalls: "Hey snow white!" "Oh, God bless you white girl." "Hey, you like coffee?!? I like coffee? You know what else I like? Milk! You know, a little bit of milk, a little bit of coffee... they go good together."<br /><br />It's weird. I've talked to girls that have lived here their entire lives, and they haven't encountered the things I have. One of the boys that grew up here said "Girl, it's just because you're white. They see a pretty African girl or a Dominican and know not to mess with them. You, you're fresh meat." I knew I would be an outsider in one way, but not in this one.<br /><br />For the most part, the cat calls don't bother me. In fact, I often write down the best ones to send to friends back home. Sometimes I would try to think of witty comebacks but mostly I ignore them while walking to work. That was until this past week.<br /><br />I was coming home last Friday from my mates' house in Crown Heights. It wasn't too late- around 1 or so, and the streets were full of night owls and tourists. I was lugging a vacuum home to prepare for my upcoming move, and decided to stop into the local bodega for a sandwich. I had to work early the next morning,and thought that grabbing a sandwich for lunch the next day would be a good idea. Unfortunately, it was a poor, poor decision.<br /><br />I've mentioned my favorite bodega before, the one on 130th and Lenox. The guys are usually friendly and oh-so-sweet; I know them by name. I've seen them pal around with other customers, so I thought this was a normal thing. This night was a bit different, though. It's a family business, and the older brother David was working. His younger brother usually works nights, but tonight he was simply in the store stopping by to say hello. After getting my sandwich, the usual, I headed out the door. I didn't head out alone, though.<br /><br />The younger brother left, following me home. He tried to take the vacuum from me, rationalizing that I wasn't strong enough to carry it home. (The bodega is half a block from my house; I had carried this thing from Brooklyn.) I tried to rationalize him following me home, thinking "Well, I know he lives around here. It's late. He's headed home, too." But then he stopped at my gate. He took the vacuum from me as I opened my gate. I tried to take it from him, saying "Okay, well, I'll see you around. I need to head to bed." At this point he asked if he could come upstairs. "Please, just for twenty minutes." I told him no, that I had to go to bed as I had to be at work early the next morning. "Oh, please, just for twenty minutes." I kept on protesting. Then his story changed. "I have to work tomorrow morning, too. I'll wake up at 7 and be out of your hair." "I need to sleep, though. If somebody is in my room I won't sleep." "You're not married, and I have nobody else, I swear. When you come into my store, I love you. Oh please, just let me come up." I said no, again. At this point I wasn't sure what I should do. My phone had died before my evening had even started,and I was on an eerily-empty side street. I knew that I didn't want this man in my building, and that he wasn't going to leave. I then started heading up to my porch, thinking that would fend him off. "Okay, I'll go this way, and you'll go that way" I said, pointing to the street. He didn't relent, though. He followed me on to the porch, getting closer. Finally I thought he was going to leave, and he tried to hug me goodbye. For a split second I thought "Oh, a hug. Okay." but knew better. I backed off, while he attack-kissed me. I turned my face, but he kissed my head and face several times. He tried to kiss me at least three other times saying "Oh, just a hug. Why not?" This was never the case, though.<br /><br />Finally fed up and terrified, I decided to head inside. I was in the mudroom (a part where you don't need a key to enter my building) and went to unlock the main door. At this point he grabbed my butt, and slid his hand up my dress. I physically pushed him away, barging into my door and slamming it behind me. At this point, I had made myself perfectly clear that I did not want this man in my presence. He apparently didn't get the point, though: he slammed his foot in the door, making it so I couldn't shut it. I knew both of the downstairs neighbors were at work this late, and knew that nobody was around to hear me yell. So I leaned myself up again the door, using all of my force to shut it. He pawed at the glass, begging me "Oh, just twenty minutes, please. Eventually his strength wavered and I managed to shut the door. I stormed up the stairs (or rather, ran like a klutz) and unlocked my room. I threw myself inside, locking the door in a great fury behind me.<br /><br />This whole event left me upset and a little unsure. I began to question WHY this guy had followed me home. I wasn't drunk. I wasn't dressed provocatively. I actually went through a bit of an identity crisis. I usually identify myself as a feminist, but this event left me thinking otherwise. Instead of blaming the guy, I tried to figure out what I did wrong. I thought about calling the police. I mean, this guy had been nice. Surely I did something wrong. He didn't REALLY do anything, so I couldn't really have a case, either. I decided to lay in bed sleepless, and forget the whole thing.<br /><br />Harlem didn't let me off that easily, though. Rounding the corner onto Lenox (Once again, just half a block down) I was confronted by two large males. Walking on either side of me, they said "Damn, girl, you sexy." I was already upset, so this was too much. They each actually had the balls to take one of their hands and run them along my inner thigh, from my knee up. When I kept trudging down the street, ignoring them they turned around and yelled "Ugly bitch, turn around! I dare you to!" This was all at 8 in the morning, too.<br /><br />Arriving at work, I needed to tell somebody. I told my manager, Rich, and he offered some advice. Later in the day two police officers stopped by, and he felt like he should talk to them about the incident. I was pulled into the office to talk to the officers, and told them the entire thing. At this point they asked "Well, what do you want to do?" I wasn't sure, though. Could I really put a guy in jail? That's a hard thing to do, being responsible for putting somebody behind bars. I asked the officers for their advice, what they would do. The female cop said "Well, I would have punched him before any of this. But, he touched you. That's sexual assault." The male officer said "I have a daughter, and I think we should lock this bastard up." I rationalized this with "But I move in a week" They said "That's an entire week he has to find you, though. And what if he doesn't stop at you?" So with that, I said, sure. Find him. And they did.<br /><br />I must say that since this event I've changed my attitude completely. I used to feel comfortable walking from the train station at night, but now I'll hail a cab after 11 for those 6 blocks. I don't talk to people on the street, not even offering a smile. I even changed up my walking route: After seeing his face once again in the store window on Lenox, I began going out of my way on the walk to work. I didn't want to see him, or risk him seeing me.<br /><br />The thing about being a Midwesterner is that I am automatically more friendly than the average American. My time in Arkansas, and my sunny disposition has added to this, making me a plain friendly gal. Usually my smile and upbeat personality are an advantage, but it seems here they are a hindrance. It stinks that I could treat an elderly lady and a middle-aged man the same way, but it will be perceived as flirting or sexual with the male. I know I am not to blame in any way for this, but for some reason I keep on just going back to myself, finding a fault that could have caused this behavior. My mother said it's just a woman thing, that guilt is built into my genes. I know this to be true, that I just naturally tend to feel guilty. This doesn't make it any more right, though.<br /><br />Despite all of this, I still love Harlem. After this incident my entire community rallied alongside me, helping me with anything I needed. I must say that the move to Bushwick couldn't have come at a better time. I'll miss the historic streets of Harlem, the ones that Langston walked down so long ago. Yet I'm excited for the adventure ahead, and to live in a neighborhood that has more organic food, more coffee shops, and far less cat calls.<br /></span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-74115579975784339542010-01-25T02:33:00.000-06:002010-01-25T01:33:58.003-06:00Simple's Hard Enough Now Anyway.<span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><b style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;">"Song"</span></b><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > Adrienne Rich</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > You're wondering if I'm lonely:</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > OK then, yes, I'm lonely</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > as a plane rides lonely and level</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > on its radio beam, aiming</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > across the Rockies</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > for the blue-strung aisles</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > of an airfield on the ocean.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > You want to ask, am I lonely?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > Well, of course, lonely</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > as a woman driving across country</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > day after day, leaving behind</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > mile after mile</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > little towns she might have stopped</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > and lived and died in, lonely</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > If I'm lonely</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > it must be the loneliness</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > of waking first, of breathing</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > dawn's first cold breath on the city</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > of being the one awake</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > in a house wrapped in sleep</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > If I'm lonely</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > it's with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > in the last red light of the year</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > that knows what it is, that knows it's neither</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > ice nor mud nor winter light</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" > but wood, with a gift for burning.</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-85327326572115618012010-01-21T00:53:00.001-06:002010-01-21T00:55:29.506-06:00Harlem: Renee<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3f3N4Ed-QALWq7V8a_KQVxEAHBBmn4iaphUQr50kj0B4idxX7We2A5FnFitqtVHlm1QqCsDACOha2eHcVAm6kxbRdgdeENWeWb5jgyF_l5_uuaZZGuO4PhFx_tGROupbyoDUVnoHVw/s1600-h/Photo+210.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3f3N4Ed-QALWq7V8a_KQVxEAHBBmn4iaphUQr50kj0B4idxX7We2A5FnFitqtVHlm1QqCsDACOha2eHcVAm6kxbRdgdeENWeWb5jgyF_l5_uuaZZGuO4PhFx_tGROupbyoDUVnoHVw/s320/Photo+210.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429082998918476738" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">If it weren’t for my best friend up here, Renee, I’m not sure where I would be. Like Val she is a Californian, and a mexican-food snob. “This isn’t anything like California.” Oh yeah? Well, California’s Mexican food sucks compared to Mexico’s. (Let’s be honest- Missouri can’t even compete. Arkansas probably has better Mexican food than Missouri.)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">As my mother can attest to, I’ve never really had any close girl friends. Renee is my first best friend who happens to be female. I realize that she is far from the typical girl, though, and that is probably why we click.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> Like my guy friends out West, Renee is always up for an adventure; Girls usually just sit around, talking about plans they’d like to follow through with, but they rarely do. If I tell Renee I want to jump, she grabs my hand and we go together. Being in the city without a friend like her would probably be dull. I have no problem going on adventures alone, but it’s oh-so-much fun to laugh about it with a best friend.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Part momma-bear, part adolescent, Renee and I seem to compliment one another well. Sometimes I think she simply sticks around because she’s worried about me, but then I’ll get that worried text or call, saying “Can we hang out?” Tonight we have an engagement, and she was seriously worried. “But, I won’t be any fun that night. Thursday is the end of my work week. Thursday is when I come over and bitch to you about work and everything else going on. We are not going to be fun Thursday night.” (This was, of course, said with one breath.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Although a bundle of fun, Renee is also one big ball of stress. I often have to do a “tone it down” gesture to her when she goes on a breathless ramble about work or her family. She’s a hard worker, and really cares about those around her, but she often takes on far too large of a work load. Being (slightly) soft-spoken, she tends to just shrug things off and do what she’s told. Luckily she’s becoming a bit more bold and demanding, and her health is greatly benefiting. If it ever gets to be too much, though, we simply meet up and eat popcorn or pancakes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Renee has also helped me greatly with my down times. With all of the uncertainty surrounding my health and future, she’s always been eager to help. She’ll show up with some food and a big smile to make sure I’m okay. I have already been pushed out of the city year elite, meaning that the people I worked with daily, the people whom I could “depend on for anything” have excommunicated me. Despite what her teammates may think of her, she still stays in touch, never giving our friendship a second thought.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">I think my favorite thing about Renee, though, is that we can just sit at a table and have a good time. Yes, we go out together and conquer the city, but we don’t need to. We are simply okay just being together, and to me that makes a good friend.</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-92188923006815055582010-01-20T03:26:00.002-06:002010-01-29T03:36:48.903-06:00Brooklyn: Val<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINQ3Mcp4R_ZvYPWelvl1mAK8tn-xZinY7NoQwvhTgyiIr5JU2tQylVJk2c2dBs8S_0KHeCBhNkCWFDq7qAScL5_RUmkHJcByokpDM4WBQp8Cr0U6vC_mKnfQw8y4TvKPMTTBvTbF8Vg/s1600-h/Photo+217.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINQ3Mcp4R_ZvYPWelvl1mAK8tn-xZinY7NoQwvhTgyiIr5JU2tQylVJk2c2dBs8S_0KHeCBhNkCWFDq7qAScL5_RUmkHJcByokpDM4WBQp8Cr0U6vC_mKnfQw8y4TvKPMTTBvTbF8Vg/s320/Photo+217.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429083310204538962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">“You know how sometimes I think I’m the Messiah? Well, I think I’m the Messiah of Hipsters. I think I’m here to lead these people!”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">This is Val. He calls me up at midnight, to let me know that he loves me and that I’m wonderful. He was in City Year, but left a few months ago because it wasn’t the organization he thought it was. (This seems to be a widely-shared sentiment.) He’s a lost soul, but a kind one. He lives in Crown Heights with one of my new best friends, and I often go over to their house to just watch british television and talk about life. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Val is the kind of guy who has a large beard and a traveling cloak (because he’s not fancy enough to have a dress one.) Although he can be a little boisterous at times, we’re a good duo. He physically takes care of me by making me brownies and giving me big hugs, while I help him emotionally by dancing in footed pajamas for him or giving him big hugs. Mostly, he makes me laugh. He’s full of conspiracy theories and wild tales, but not in a radical way. More like in a late night talk show kind of way. Oh gosh, Val should never be allowed to have his own television show. Instead of Jaywalking, he would try to psychologically analyze people on the street. I don’t think any network could cover the therapy those poor souls would undoubtedly need.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Sometimes Val smells, but we’re working on that. He always calls me a Pixie; I suppose I can be pixie-like.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">At first I was a little hesitant to befriend Val, mostly due to his large stature and occasional smell. As soon as my homesickness set in, I ran to him like a MS&T student to a LAN party. He is like a mixture of all of my KMNR friends and Bob from Staples. Oh, how I miss Bob. I realized that although he could very easily break me into small pieces, Val was nothing but a gentle giant. After we sat on line on a sidewalk in Chelsea for a few hours, I knew we’d be best friends; someone behind us commented that he was like a cartoon character, and that is very true. He could very easily be placed into Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. Sometimes I even have doubts if he is real. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Pure myth or a Dude-like living legend, Val is one of my best friends here in the city, one of the crutches I depend on. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">“I think hipsters are the type of people that say “Bush sucks, let’s party!” They care, but they don’t do anything about it. I don’t really care that Bush sucks, as long as we party. If i ran into him, I’m sure we’d get along. He’d buy me lunch because he’s a rich guy, and I’m poor. We’d shake hands, and I’d smoke a cigarette with him. He’s probably a decent guy.” </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">See, dad, even you would like Val.</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-57205118302755011612010-01-19T22:26:00.002-06:002010-01-21T00:56:55.909-06:00It's time for us to represent: My favorites from CY. Miss you.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqB3xXqzhJ30fLnvhGNY4k0_Rm64_zu0XKVM92NViYEvej5NofT1A3RBiaMh51Mfd5EWrbAQbAJIQQk-FkBWaaHbbt8a-ytcNziLnVqPX8TrF3oJTB473tdpSq6oQ51fms67kobjHykA/s1600-h/IMG_0739.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqB3xXqzhJ30fLnvhGNY4k0_Rm64_zu0XKVM92NViYEvej5NofT1A3RBiaMh51Mfd5EWrbAQbAJIQQk-FkBWaaHbbt8a-ytcNziLnVqPX8TrF3oJTB473tdpSq6oQ51fms67kobjHykA/s320/IMG_0739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397487812615166386" border="0" /></a><br /><blockquote style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >"</span>I think the Falcon Club is important because we valenter and help the ones in the need. Falcon Club is a cool club because when it's thanksgiving we will visit a Hospital. I think I community will be touch by our help.<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >"</span><br />-M., 7th Grade</blockquote><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">During a session we were discussing ideal communities. We had gone through about 15 minutes discussing ideal communities, when one of my team members realized that the kids had no idea what the word 'ideal' meant. So, we asked them to define it for us.</span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">"Uhm... Dangerous?" (student)</span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">"Well, no. What do you think ideal means?" (Corps Members)</span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">"USE CONTEXT CLUES! GOOOSH!" (Other student)</span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">"Oh, well. So, like, it's when you deal with things. Like someone punching somebody, so i deal with it."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">It made total sense, and I hear things like this daily. This is not to belittle my students' work at all. They are amazing. Sure, there are times where they are crawling on the floor, starting fights, or cursing like they are sailors, but they are truly amazing souls. With the right direction they can voice their deep thoughts and incredibly unique perceptions. With the right direction. Right now, I'm not that direction.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">It's makes me sad to think that I won't be able to see if Brandon can start to focus, or if Mohamed really will turn out to be as wonderful as I think he is. I want to make sure Luz doesn't get too crazy with the boys, and try to help Paris control his emotional outbursts. But the more I've done this job, the more I've realized it requires more than I have to offer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">A little over a year ago, I was sitting at my dining room table in Missouri talking to my parents. I was teary-eyed, as were they when my mother said these words: "What I just don't understand is your sudden obsession with helping others. Erika, you can't help others if you aren't taking care of yourself. You have to take care of yourself first." I understood her at the time, but was determined that I would be taking care of myself through my service to others. (I believe that this was instilled in me during Sunday School with Mrs. Peaslee) And I did, I nurtured the parts of me that needed to be nurtured, shrank several doubts ( and bad habits) I had, and opened all kinds of doors to people and possibilities. Unfortunately, I've also experienced all kinds of failure.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">The past few months have been riddled with scary phone conversations and worried stomachs. I know my family back home is wishing I were back home, curled up with my new kitten (whom I love dearly) under their watchful eye. I've been having some health problems, yes. There are days where I can't feel limbs, days when I feel so exhausted I don't even leave my house. I've been to hospitals, had my brain scanned, been given pills that make me feel funny. Through the beginning of this I tried to trudge through, being the perky one at First Circle, the one consistently trying to put on the smile I'm known for. But it just kept on getting harder. I would go home, exhausted, and fall asleep with my Reds on. I stopped doing the things I loved so much simply to keep a commitment, knowing it wasn't good for me. But now, in the midst of all of this confusion and pain, I'm deciding to take my mother's advice. (I'm not moving back home, though. Sorry, mom.) I'm going to take care of myself FIRST.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Doing this is bringing on several changes. One, obviously, I won't be in CY. I already miss talking to my buds in the office, but hopefully we'll find some weekend time to catch up. Lord knows they need to relieve some stress, and we all know I love laughing. (Especially you, Theresa and Alli. We need to get you away from CY culture for a day.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">The second one is that I won't be living in Harlem anymore. Some are relieved at this news "Oh, you'll be moving to a better neighborhood!" or "You'll be closer to me now!" (Val) Others, are disheartened "You won't be 5 blocks away!" (I'll miss you too, Renee.) Not only will it be cheaper, but it will be a much better living situation. I'll be living in a house with people my age whom share the same interests I do. They have communal meals a few times a week, and a roof top garden where I can play with worms and grow food. They're involved in the community, and just seem like genuinely nice folks. The neighborhood is a gentrified one, much like Harlem, but is definitely more focused towards my demographic. There are coffee shops, organic groceries, local food restaurants, and a kick-ass pizza place all within a few blocks from my new house. I won't move until the end of the month. Until then, I'm soaking in the cat-calls and soul food. You'll always be my first love, Harlem. Really.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">The last one is that I'm trying to find a new job to take up the time CY did. Right now I'm picking up extra shifts at Staples, while still sticking with the weekend shifts I had. I do love the people I work with there, but it would be nice to do something more productive with my time. I know that due to my experience and the economic climate choices are limited, but I'm putting myself out there. Plus, Harlem is around an hour commute from Bushwick. I'd appreciate working a little closer to home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Home has been such a relative term these past few years, but I've found that it's a really easy concept to create. Maybe it's just my Midwestern smile or southern hospitality, but all it takes are a few close friends and a few constant haunts to make a home. I hear these songs longing for it, see shows dedicated to finding the perfect one, but really it's all hogwash; Home is wherever you decide it is.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Right now, home is a lumpy bed in a messy room in Harlem. 'night, friends.</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-58404132980719440662009-10-27T22:35:00.003-05:002009-10-29T13:24:38.460-05:00But, Miss!<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">"Kahlia, come here."</span></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br /><br /> Her bright eyes stare lovingly at his as he fiercely fires his orders. She's done no wrong, but he just doesn't have the time nor energy to deal with her.<br /><br /><br />She's in a laundromat. With nothing to do.<br /><br /><br /> The drones are driving her crazy, and the flickering fluorescents are making her restless. I feel the same way, Kahlia. Right now, though, I feel with your dad, too.<br /><br /><br /> I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm over-worked and under-paid. Yet, because of what I'm doing I'm expected to convey the same zest, the same love this three year old child does.<br /><br /> "Yo, Miss. I didn't do nothing, though."<br /><br /> But you did, Enrique. You were difficult. You were difficult, and I'm just not in the mood to handle your "lovable" quirks. Now, sit down and do your work.<br /><br /> It's not really his fault. He's a kid, and he wants to go out and play. He lives in an unprivileged area and goes to an under-resourced school. Despite how loving and supporting his family may be, he lives in a community of negativity and doubt.<br /><br /> "I don't want to go home, because I know it's not a good place."<br />"I don't have to worry about the Bloods here. My cousin's one. They look out for me."<br /><br />Every day the world eggs him on screaming "Fail! Fail!" They look at him and see just another sad statistic. Despite me being a statistic of my own, and despite the mass amounts of hope and optimism I contain, today I'm one of those people screaming "You'll never get anywhere in life. Just hurry up and fail."<br /><br /> Enrique is in no hurry to prove them wrong, either:<br />"People of my color don't go to college."<br />"I joined a gang at my last school. We beat people up for no reason. Even though I'm not at that school, I'm still in the gang."<br />These are the things I hear every day. Those smiling eyes and upbeat attitudes astound me sometimes. I </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;" >know</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;" > they don't have enough to eat. I <span style="font-weight: bold;">know</span> they are wearing dirty clothes. I <span style="font-weight: bold;">know</span> they've experienced a form of abuse, maybe even the night before.<br /><br />Yet here they are looking up at me, smiling.<br /><br />"Miss, miss. I didn't do anything wrong, miss."<br /><br />No, you didn't, Enrique. You're just a victim, a product of your environment. I'll try to remember this as you're running, cursing, and fighting. I promise that in this year I will do my best to make your community, your school, your life as supportive and safe as possible. I want to help you. But, please, Enrique, just sit down and do your work.<br /><br />"Okay, Miss."</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-63758485148020551292009-10-06T22:34:00.009-05:002010-01-20T12:07:22.452-06:00New York State of MindNew York and I have a very odd relationship thus far. Everything about it can be summed up in lyrical form, but I'll try to use my words as much as possible.<br /><br />Coming into New York, I was so incredibly excited. I knew I would love the city, and I couldn't wait to learn more about it. It was the city of endless pavement, endless opportunities. It was the city so nice they just <span style="font-style: italic;">had</span> to name it twice. Still high from my amazing summer in Arkansas, I took on the city head-on. As much pavement as I covered, I felt as if my feet never touched the ground. My program started, and I met all of my new colleagues and friends. I just simply fell in love with the idea (and the reality) of New York City and City Year.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbiYukwF2I85qPToJF9_PgpTr49TdM4byOxN_OIrXs6JAMr1xNqFVbpED-Grl5jeqoJFJoyBglURRIB6b9a_R69P24iPlUmaQNXTwzqrWcF4KqpysHC4_O6EyVP3VFSEygNf0f1u9Fg/s1600-h/8829_1147163441624_1303680047_30449326_1667499_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbiYukwF2I85qPToJF9_PgpTr49TdM4byOxN_OIrXs6JAMr1xNqFVbpED-Grl5jeqoJFJoyBglURRIB6b9a_R69P24iPlUmaQNXTwzqrWcF4KqpysHC4_O6EyVP3VFSEygNf0f1u9Fg/s320/8829_1147163441624_1303680047_30449326_1667499_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389698968067343090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">At The Today Show.<br /></span></div>With any new relationship there are pitfalls. The city seems to have a very manic energy, and a very strong energy. There will be days that I will leave my house with the sun shining, music blasting from every stoop, and people dancing on the sidewalks. A few hours later I'll emerge from the subway and it will be a completely different atmosphere; all it takes is one cool, harrowing breeze to turn the singing into yelling. Being a sensitive soul, there is no way I can escape the force, the energy of 8 million people.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwCL05mtTfr7q1j2J1HJhbqVUgbQySk1Id5HGcw1R4Yf_7gm3GJO9sT2eYQBkvoWAP9dhzQEHpcJiB7jm00Zunp4SwV3zHg99MlIrj1LE3dfJM9xMS4hbLiLEG_0W9xbPVPIQ1n-vdQ/s1600-h/Photo+105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwCL05mtTfr7q1j2J1HJhbqVUgbQySk1Id5HGcw1R4Yf_7gm3GJO9sT2eYQBkvoWAP9dhzQEHpcJiB7jm00Zunp4SwV3zHg99MlIrj1LE3dfJM9xMS4hbLiLEG_0W9xbPVPIQ1n-vdQ/s320/Photo+105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389696818966764834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">The morning after a 24-hour night out. The City can do crazy things to people.</span><br /></div>So far everything has still been simply an idea to me. I've been living in the city, but it never really set in. I hadn't yet realized that I couldn't simply drive to a field and look at the stars whenever I pleased. I hadn't yet realized the scope of work I would be doing this year. I hadn't yet realized how expensive the city really is. So when all of this set in, it was a bit rough. And as they say, when it rains, it pours.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Fb4cYaZxn-wbNE3XIcWPvO92uGba18NcRVTdHsZJe2PVeGCu_PHNrkKpOEzWCbpp7IMWBluI7XEaTND28fLRj0obdgejCg34d2Ower6oIvDICIGPnWU-dzdzQBUu9tyZ1VkuG113KA/s1600-h/Photo+106.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Fb4cYaZxn-wbNE3XIcWPvO92uGba18NcRVTdHsZJe2PVeGCu_PHNrkKpOEzWCbpp7IMWBluI7XEaTND28fLRj0obdgejCg34d2Ower6oIvDICIGPnWU-dzdzQBUu9tyZ1VkuG113KA/s320/Photo+106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389696931848159538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Sick and tired after a 12 hour day.</span><br /></div>I've learned that I'm very much a doer. Several people in CY are, but most seem to be visionaries. This is probably my biggest frustration, as I am sincerely growing tired of discussing our methods and plans instead of doing them. My team has caught onto this, and has done their best to accommodate. Still, the stress added up pretty quickly. I also had an issue with the Department of Education, as they said I was ineligible to work in the schools. It turned out they had simply transposed the numbers in my SSN, but it was extremely discouraging and frustrating to have to sit out of work, not knowing if all of my training, my planning, my dreaming had been in vain. I also lost a bit of my affection for my neighborhood, as I had a bag stolen from me on the trek home from the train one evening. It wasn't too terrifying, and I feel completely safe now. I'm just disheartened that my friends and family elsewhere now have their stereotypes and preconceptions of Harlem confirmed by one isolated event. I can sense it every time I talk to my parents now- they want to know where I am, where I'm headed, who I'll be with.<br /><br />Luckily they don't have to worry. I recently received a box of luck from Rolla, and in it contained a fortune: Do not worry. Your every need will be provided. The blue ink on that little slip of paper couldn't have been more true. I was feeling down, and my family at JHS 13 came through. Staff members comforted me and gave me advice. My teammates went above and beyond by giving me company and even feeding me some food. I was feeling a little stressed out at school, and I was able to work on a corporate service day in my neighborhood. I was running low on cash, and found out I did indeed land that second job. I just couldn't feel more blessed right now.<br /><br />I have started to miss Arkansas and the people I knew there, but I realize that I was lucky enough to have that home for 6 months. {<span style="font-style: italic;">It was so easy living day by day, </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> out of touch with the rhythm and blues. But now I need a little give and take The New York Times, The Daily News</span>} As cynical as I thought I grew last year, I feel like the optimist in me is thriving in this city. Maybe it's because a random smile is such a treasure here, but I'm finding myself becoming more and more optimistic about life. I just finished a nearly 70-hour work week, but I'm feeling great. I'm worn out, but happy.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> {In New York,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> There's nothing you can't do,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Now you're in New York,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> These streets will make you feel brand new,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Big lights will inspire you,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Let's hear it for New York}</span><br />I think I just needed a few days to process the past three months.<br /><br />As far as work, everything is going swimmingly. I'll post about the school soon. (It really deserves its own spotlight.) Staples is interesting. Yes, I'm once again at Staples as one of their weekend cashiers. It's funny how very much the same it is while still being completely different. It's a bit busy, and my co-workers are very different than the ones in Rolla. The customers are still just as funny and personable, already making up nicknames for me. (I apparently resemble Nancy Drew.) The store is much more lax, as one of my Nigerian co-workers was eating a cheeseburger at the register, but they still take their jobs very seriously.<br /><br />East Coast men are like no other, though. That is the one thing I can't get used to. In the Midwest and South, men just dance around the subject, taking their time to show their interest in you. Here, the men have no shame. If they're not catcalling you on the sidewalk, they're slipping you a card or stealing your phone to input their number. You can try to be a nice lass and turn them down gently, but they mostly just don't get it. I've never had to work so hard to turn somebody down before. It's almost exhausting, really.<br /><br />I'm off enjoy my heated mattress pad and new sheets. Thanks, Mom.<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-p3Wty9bJeQ&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-p3Wty9bJeQ&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-75981625914504132502009-10-03T18:11:00.013-05:002010-01-20T12:07:52.455-06:00September 11th in New York<span style="font-family:times new roman;">I remember what I felt like the day the planes hit the towers, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">whe</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">re I was. I think everyone across the nation does. I couldn't even grasp the impact i</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">t </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">had on New York until this past September 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span>. I was lucky enough to honor the memory of t</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">hose </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">whose lives we</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">re taken in 2001 through service and reflection.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">We began the day reflecting on what had happened, and what it meant to the communities we served. I was able to talk to some of my teammates that grew up in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">e city and heard their stories of the day. They could hear the towers being hit, and saw the smoke.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> The</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> Brooklyn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">brid</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ge</span> was closed, and they remember walking across that night with dazed and confused masses. I couldn't even fathom what they had experienced in that day, that week, that year, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">th</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">at month. So I didn't try. I just tried to do my best to honor the memories of the fallen.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZ7loDUB2uKVidrArMOdHhp-BnhIlA-_zw3LD82AFXUxhKasS6BD48jVgd__qFHuSPjy2zH0rhmJf6NVrV33sgDecXcMHLy8t-04TkLkBhrWkSxQLXy0y1rjbHeyLBqtTn1gB5gmo6Q/s1600-h/IMG_0044.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZ7loDUB2uKVidrArMOdHhp-BnhIlA-_zw3LD82AFXUxhKasS6BD48jVgd__qFHuSPjy2zH0rhmJf6NVrV33sgDecXcMHLy8t-04TkLkBhrWkSxQLXy0y1rjbHeyLBqtTn1gB5gmo6Q/s320/IMG_0044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388518716642820786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilf1TXSjHXT_Hrtez2t6yoGvmNMwBZPeGFT8AB3XlV0g8KHoz5NwT-ZCct3JTZFSywkDtjxllEkhZAnGKJlJzvq1WMkvart8I7P1xLK0w6oAX1ASD0Txs0Mjof3e76sxH_lENQbgVd-Q/s1600-h/IMG_0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilf1TXSjHXT_Hrtez2t6yoGvmNMwBZPeGFT8AB3XlV0g8KHoz5NwT-ZCct3JTZFSywkDtjxllEkhZAnGKJlJzvq1WMkvart8I7P1xLK0w6oAX1ASD0Txs0Mjof3e76sxH_lENQbgVd-Q/s320/IMG_0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388519341768436002" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">We bonded and painted wall art for the Pediatric Ward of the Harlem Hospital right up the street from me on 135<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">th</span>. It was a great day: fun, meaningful, and mostly fun. We delivered our work to the hospital and saw the great work they are doing there. They have an entire art center set up where patients can express their minds through any medium they choose. There was one artist I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">foun</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">d especially talented, Orville. I'll post his work below.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMNTyhGQQ3YxpK0rdlEzdVqqn0QOYgNWJrOkIv1dDbAGwrKTBSBpIKecskmyXWQNH6JtCeVDvtWyRTX2M5VWv3j1o8y526dxvtQtYzjkwLS5lCZUt7hTyRfTXwlhPdPI4e-uZ7YXzOg/s1600-h/IMG_0060.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMNTyhGQQ3YxpK0rdlEzdVqqn0QOYgNWJrOkIv1dDbAGwrKTBSBpIKecskmyXWQNH6JtCeVDvtWyRTX2M5VWv3j1o8y526dxvtQtYzjkwLS5lCZUt7hTyRfTXwlhPdPI4e-uZ7YXzOg/s320/IMG_0060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388521327071766418" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAICWCKg_yYbpTZsPm4SI9S5LBpfFEFnlCciwIgix8IqtU8xS39oUHovFlVG9UW_A2VJZNP4DtdZuHS5bQbggNxSWiKx2kU2XmRJrFF-bf8tvsevPX4tllDOh-l2U81_nIuRYLNL6yWw/s1600-h/IMG_0056.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAICWCKg_yYbpTZsPm4SI9S5LBpfFEFnlCciwIgix8IqtU8xS39oUHovFlVG9UW_A2VJZNP4DtdZuHS5bQbggNxSWiKx2kU2XmRJrFF-bf8tvsevPX4tllDOh-l2U81_nIuRYLNL6yWw/s320/IMG_0056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388520371179601746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">After finishing up our day, I decided to go to a memorial service</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">. There were several going on all across the island, but I found an interfaith one hosted by a Buddhist church on the Hudson river. It was simply gorgeous, and mostly indescribable. To see several religions serving, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">wors</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">hiping</span>, and reflecting together was simply awe-inspiring.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNnk3FxD7XsApd8myqlPf-RxAd3NxaSY8MFz3NFQmGKQ5cf9yL7CZeGk6qcxsNOz-lIRpHIRLjRFZ82CTdRTk_AvzalIIHaOVRoSue3BMUDXwod1VNpFgTluBfJkNE-vSbo1BNnQeZ2Q/s1600-h/IMG_0071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNnk3FxD7XsApd8myqlPf-RxAd3NxaSY8MFz3NFQmGKQ5cf9yL7CZeGk6qcxsNOz-lIRpHIRLjRFZ82CTdRTk_AvzalIIHaOVRoSue3BMUDXwod1VNpFgTluBfJkNE-vSbo1BNnQeZ2Q/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388522055085470978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXMgMuvBR6mMUJwKk2ZQbzk65yYrPubxQ4Kdd-7CtaEfTpbAg5zhnTOtPLRs4BFOhPCzrePBA68CZvX1lcqRBq2aXpDYt26i_daPEP9TVftBAtk4oN_NT19mpYyB5eAGBV8LgThMsFw/s1600-h/IMG_0079.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXMgMuvBR6mMUJwKk2ZQbzk65yYrPubxQ4Kdd-7CtaEfTpbAg5zhnTOtPLRs4BFOhPCzrePBA68CZvX1lcqRBq2aXpDYt26i_daPEP9TVftBAtk4oN_NT19mpYyB5eAGBV8LgThMsFw/s320/IMG_0079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388526715527342434" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6u9etEuZ-k56HLjmQ-CjwaUtx2ozcyHSw7n_RCMlwvb2YDcABV5N9XaB6owhCAwFQabz_wCC8762WC03t5w8e2DN8W2jPXDkJ-yjKUHCW92e23gzk6PzwoejKf_ZEPkR-Bxfhav4vg/s1600-h/IMG_0076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6u9etEuZ-k56HLjmQ-CjwaUtx2ozcyHSw7n_RCMlwvb2YDcABV5N9XaB6owhCAwFQabz_wCC8762WC03t5w8e2DN8W2jPXDkJ-yjKUHCW92e23gzk6PzwoejKf_ZEPkR-Bxfhav4vg/s320/IMG_0076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388522504173902850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4dKuzJrPZFURTvLj8YXQrn0xZyB0AXY_nEI-mkD4tEzoy5ykutC6W0TZL-OqiXu1_m6boDwYdPymbJ7XEcAflY0cDOPa_ihm4sdv3Z0OvcS9sEueKez5jpQ_OH4k4MiFKZcSBWi9HQ/s1600-h/IMG_0093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4dKuzJrPZFURTvLj8YXQrn0xZyB0AXY_nEI-mkD4tEzoy5ykutC6W0TZL-OqiXu1_m6boDwYdPymbJ7XEcAflY0cDOPa_ihm4sdv3Z0OvcS9sEueKez5jpQ_OH4k4MiFKZcSBWi9HQ/s320/IMG_0093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388523272450328402" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">My friend Renee went with me to the both the service and Ground Zero that night. I know I should be more descriptive about the day and its impact, its poetry but it's been a few weeks and I still haven't been able to take it in. It's a mix between a deep, deep grief and complete hope for the future. I'll just post pictures, as my words are failing me.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYo-rXO2Teunpbpu9Doz3Ote_tnqrwTJ1uyw-ElvLr1c_N0vqJSGyp2i3XW2gMkbWFE-x4_OPURoNwLVy_0M27PzUPa6QeMd1en6lg9tTPsuCGY1xCKkEwfNJMbE7fbX6BvMakkddsHg/s1600-h/IMG_0105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYo-rXO2Teunpbpu9Doz3Ote_tnqrwTJ1uyw-ElvLr1c_N0vqJSGyp2i3XW2gMkbWFE-x4_OPURoNwLVy_0M27PzUPa6QeMd1en6lg9tTPsuCGY1xCKkEwfNJMbE7fbX6BvMakkddsHg/s400/IMG_0105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388524062382527874" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /></span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-9467582855205878062009-09-25T21:20:00.009-05:002010-01-20T12:08:16.047-06:00Extracurriculars (Photos)<div>My front porch is a fantastic place. Renee (with an accent), Stella and I enjoy it.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4y4wPahFkUs03uIh06QoKQ8_jKEKOjkiWNmSN9WkO5f0B9pTej-HILnFMplsl47v_xTzbxwxjNG_S_EJl6ujfEcz4f7pJPdtS6P6TnW1aM2VqVG-L5PN-zBa7dFbFeo8hy6zDr4O2g/s1600-h/IMG_0141.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4y4wPahFkUs03uIh06QoKQ8_jKEKOjkiWNmSN9WkO5f0B9pTej-HILnFMplsl47v_xTzbxwxjNG_S_EJl6ujfEcz4f7pJPdtS6P6TnW1aM2VqVG-L5PN-zBa7dFbFeo8hy6zDr4O2g/s400/IMG_0141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385623106363326290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuIPu9Nk1kM-q21ddXJnyp8O6cMmSdsocqHtKW12HPgtf24iKlQpFm1Uh6n6cmmc7F9dixZ22af_HnE47KKIntn5zxOMm9EO4UlHOOLYduHlhUyjKlULaOEujtk6IYMwI5E6wgRL3WQ/s1600-h/IMG_0139.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuIPu9Nk1kM-q21ddXJnyp8O6cMmSdsocqHtKW12HPgtf24iKlQpFm1Uh6n6cmmc7F9dixZ22af_HnE47KKIntn5zxOMm9EO4UlHOOLYduHlhUyjKlULaOEujtk6IYMwI5E6wgRL3WQ/s400/IMG_0139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385623097512065298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfhOr9PNofxZIzlhcjIHOOuedAQgsCi5nbbbQBw-IH5-yubLGlhj6cmbI_vdAQFOQj25BUsNqmjPpdzVhIkm8UEIoaNXM-QGEQNd9Em2QII2IfQpxouzLxgvfLB2MrfjnlEV5QBC1Xw/s1600-h/IMG_0126.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfhOr9PNofxZIzlhcjIHOOuedAQgsCi5nbbbQBw-IH5-yubLGlhj6cmbI_vdAQFOQj25BUsNqmjPpdzVhIkm8UEIoaNXM-QGEQNd9Em2QII2IfQpxouzLxgvfLB2MrfjnlEV5QBC1Xw/s400/IMG_0126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385623088713332690" border="0" /></a>I was kidnapped to New Jersey by Ryan and Chris a few weeks ago. This is to prove that NJ is beautiful.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja48QVpkLnuvPwU-V8y9ScMw_D5PY_7HH88JxHplvhFrSevZ1zemTYsb2u4k_jjCdztPtyTXmXqDxjGK-L1AqNlfpmAExzPLduE8ePpREr_ewNlqDDCWALzyR6JVhK3kLhToZzoByP8A/s1600-h/IMG_0113.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja48QVpkLnuvPwU-V8y9ScMw_D5PY_7HH88JxHplvhFrSevZ1zemTYsb2u4k_jjCdztPtyTXmXqDxjGK-L1AqNlfpmAExzPLduE8ePpREr_ewNlqDDCWALzyR6JVhK3kLhToZzoByP8A/s400/IMG_0113.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385623080510430130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUDb4Pa8PKE8ioZjC7sAxZXnjrUlwjrvZtHOVaDFoPlLazEg-OE-LJXVm0gIbhCRmWTvWWt9dhI_hdEJPIw_SoWxix4XAkpSpaePMf0GUk2cKGETrhYkBTXYHYW5asKXUR6bjYhJp3w/s1600-h/IMG_0112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUDb4Pa8PKE8ioZjC7sAxZXnjrUlwjrvZtHOVaDFoPlLazEg-OE-LJXVm0gIbhCRmWTvWWt9dhI_hdEJPIw_SoWxix4XAkpSpaePMf0GUk2cKGETrhYkBTXYHYW5asKXUR6bjYhJp3w/s400/IMG_0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385620030805851122" border="0" /></a>These are belated pictures of New Hampshire. I visited my Field Organizer from the campaign in Concord, where he is currently attending Franklin Pierce Law School. We had lobster, scallops, and other "wonderful" delights. I might have scallops again, but ugh. I do not like sea food.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlOBHqccFlN-VucP70oe4Pt72SsNrQbXuwA-67P94BAYtzw3a6Zo1Ki5u8H_MmPPy_x_t4hNg1ueGx-FsrO4a9tkW7Q3dHzak1Ad08SYCqDrs9T7aMOZJRvcOoOZ-GQIlJN1GSjpedw/s1600-h/IMG_2190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlOBHqccFlN-VucP70oe4Pt72SsNrQbXuwA-67P94BAYtzw3a6Zo1Ki5u8H_MmPPy_x_t4hNg1ueGx-FsrO4a9tkW7Q3dHzak1Ad08SYCqDrs9T7aMOZJRvcOoOZ-GQIlJN1GSjpedw/s400/IMG_2190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385620019509355314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisoNUUFNUZxblVyZbAbeIlpGuoU6yV46HaIrCryJW3tdGiTj-PKCZTn7kz9Yr5pohCLp21BmyAlZDZ1TTgvXjiUQCKajkUYFOnCcJcpgSfd8txsh7jnNthmDo0rRrj8kqBjgaKaBZ0wQ/s1600-h/IMG_2181.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisoNUUFNUZxblVyZbAbeIlpGuoU6yV46HaIrCryJW3tdGiTj-PKCZTn7kz9Yr5pohCLp21BmyAlZDZ1TTgvXjiUQCKajkUYFOnCcJcpgSfd8txsh7jnNthmDo0rRrj8kqBjgaKaBZ0wQ/s400/IMG_2181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385620010800869890" border="0" /></a>This was the SMALL ice cream cone. Chris and I got kiddie- sized ones after seeing this, but they was still enormous.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaXtIcHaV45ERU7aeomVYWrEDi8kycMnZUcH4-SHQ4zEb7K5mm4426zM4Ve56g1OZ20WMRX7dXEIuNxouZcffgIn8VsM4uJeUn-erPtj7THxpZA2HabMxSdJbgQLSCg2xhqu4GOJolA/s1600-h/IMG_2137.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaXtIcHaV45ERU7aeomVYWrEDi8kycMnZUcH4-SHQ4zEb7K5mm4426zM4Ve56g1OZ20WMRX7dXEIuNxouZcffgIn8VsM4uJeUn-erPtj7THxpZA2HabMxSdJbgQLSCg2xhqu4GOJolA/s400/IMG_2137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385620004907585234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPVm-uSQL8OPgpXDI8Ou-YsXUYzGncoKxmwCbL2818Otkz1QTZxtv0wtaxXxCKIX0xY42hOi5G-G4p6FctbOGgkysK-AYUxQz8trVzn8u0yxsf43fAx8ysdVNeSRPfS-YYaUbTerkBw/s1600-h/IMG_2133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPVm-uSQL8OPgpXDI8Ou-YsXUYzGncoKxmwCbL2818Otkz1QTZxtv0wtaxXxCKIX0xY42hOi5G-G4p6FctbOGgkysK-AYUxQz8trVzn8u0yxsf43fAx8ysdVNeSRPfS-YYaUbTerkBw/s400/IMG_2133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385619996799427090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxvgUg36s5qIKfs-qG3sMC5WS_Qg72O2ajPuSneNr9S4wnUBJvbB308BQZwFHXIB1zRzLP0TFQJ_Z6y7_Jgz66n5XRxGSMZWdcYdC9CWp7rVx0n6cxsPTpCp9rwjQW78gXgOldhsqlw/s1600-h/IMG_2135.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxvgUg36s5qIKfs-qG3sMC5WS_Qg72O2ajPuSneNr9S4wnUBJvbB308BQZwFHXIB1zRzLP0TFQJ_Z6y7_Jgz66n5XRxGSMZWdcYdC9CWp7rVx0n6cxsPTpCp9rwjQW78gXgOldhsqlw/s400/IMG_2135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385615883077513090" border="0" /></a>We decided to play "Shake your face for the camera."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW3MkDglQiVXV8rwSidjwHHceKUpVrtoRB_ZEsmpkvgatbfVP4e_kwjCjPuTnXSUWbKbAjij2TVF5_zESaPta1xWRbiGsceqya4PufZJbMSJupfBOe7p7_hISXYakoRCqiQoVywtFHA/s1600-h/IMG_2097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW3MkDglQiVXV8rwSidjwHHceKUpVrtoRB_ZEsmpkvgatbfVP4e_kwjCjPuTnXSUWbKbAjij2TVF5_zESaPta1xWRbiGsceqya4PufZJbMSJupfBOe7p7_hISXYakoRCqiQoVywtFHA/s400/IMG_2097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385615877512166498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8RWbOs1-iOk0F9nNSxHGAtQwRnY_aqjLmXx9sOpT2cPLqEsLxCKREVTVa-byMTtgpUCBDpABNUAdSShVidX5VPiJVbwPhSufST6pgiUDR9AbSittKq2YssqBGz1iKkupHYReZkZBsQ/s1600-h/IMG_2090.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8RWbOs1-iOk0F9nNSxHGAtQwRnY_aqjLmXx9sOpT2cPLqEsLxCKREVTVa-byMTtgpUCBDpABNUAdSShVidX5VPiJVbwPhSufST6pgiUDR9AbSittKq2YssqBGz1iKkupHYReZkZBsQ/s400/IMG_2090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385615868756857618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8NKhz_TyYu9MFObRJQxqOswnISymn8AbLOzioPMZGFc1LQJI1HFUP2-WuiBcs4aeFzaxiMDmWh5xM2zyvdsDwZnRNkdrLCEMWhGZwFJkU_nWMnoUhgUlEOAGJQasmBc1BXVYqB59xQ/s1600-h/IMG_2089.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8NKhz_TyYu9MFObRJQxqOswnISymn8AbLOzioPMZGFc1LQJI1HFUP2-WuiBcs4aeFzaxiMDmWh5xM2zyvdsDwZnRNkdrLCEMWhGZwFJkU_nWMnoUhgUlEOAGJQasmBc1BXVYqB59xQ/s400/IMG_2089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385615862406569010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLM7qaxcDcjx68pI88gSHeg7nAd6HNlgfPBC5yJAPFeOFKsqHDWoOpZXhJLOB-CtvoNNrPZd54HYhC8-Z4Wbo2-hYh4paZ5_jqZyAv-FkGoIZ88l0fCIwOVGGSbXi3h2O8OCro8EzKHw/s1600-h/IMG_2084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLM7qaxcDcjx68pI88gSHeg7nAd6HNlgfPBC5yJAPFeOFKsqHDWoOpZXhJLOB-CtvoNNrPZd54HYhC8-Z4Wbo2-hYh4paZ5_jqZyAv-FkGoIZ88l0fCIwOVGGSbXi3h2O8OCro8EzKHw/s400/IMG_2084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385615852755309330" border="0" /></a>I'll update more again soon. My phone is currently broken, so I haven't been able to stay in touch with people outside the city. I've been heavily relying on skype, which is not too pleasant.Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-41196077606918226412009-09-06T00:21:00.013-05:002009-09-16T00:20:22.343-05:00Calming down a bit. (Originally from 9/6/09)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ql_Dt3HnevWiGGWTjwLgubZ5JPjcBBnD_vKO0ulK_SA_1fD_paSck613YAeYdEpnW517iFK7aSN4Oz9Mz8rpmFPTyD5JtQixIVAXrjHgVDTQNTuctIwSX0atc0c-fdXjWr7YO2gF_A/s1600-h/7827_625910124181_25009058_36710607_3757245_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ql_Dt3HnevWiGGWTjwLgubZ5JPjcBBnD_vKO0ulK_SA_1fD_paSck613YAeYdEpnW517iFK7aSN4Oz9Mz8rpmFPTyD5JtQixIVAXrjHgVDTQNTuctIwSX0atc0c-fdXjWr7YO2gF_A/s320/7827_625910124181_25009058_36710607_3757245_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381195847239688082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">After a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">whirwind</span> tour of the city, I've finally started to settle down a bit. I've spent a few nights staying in, and am starting to get more sleep. (Although it's nearly two in the morning as I write this. So perhaps I'm not doing so well on that front.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Training is going well, and I've managed to make some good friends. The girls in the following pictures live five blocks away, and are both serving in Harlem this year. We tend to commute together, and meet up a lot outside of work. Stella and I walked the Brooklyn bridge a few weeks ago. It was</span> crowded, and the weather was less than perfect, but still a neat experience. The night before I watched a documentary on the building of the bridge, so I was excited to see it all first hand.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lsgN_PMHp20QQ1r8Qy-ioQ7vmq7yoPk3Z1NI0szKmV2YqSvauRXH_FmFN4aSB1rtT8M5FK0lv9-Jl9NmwHjigoMTtytCPfB1-KGI6sPzcVdeA1k6JoWC3r_xL0aAf-5G8LK6yB-GFw/s1600-h/7827_625910149131_25009058_36710612_2626540_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lsgN_PMHp20QQ1r8Qy-ioQ7vmq7yoPk3Z1NI0szKmV2YqSvauRXH_FmFN4aSB1rtT8M5FK0lv9-Jl9NmwHjigoMTtytCPfB1-KGI6sPzcVdeA1k6JoWC3r_xL0aAf-5G8LK6yB-GFw/s320/7827_625910149131_25009058_36710612_2626540_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381189315361452770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Renee and I have hung out a lot, too. Here were are in Times Square (her first time at night) a few weeks ago.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lsgN_PMHp20QQ1r8Qy-ioQ7vmq7yoPk3Z1NI0szKmV2YqSvauRXH_FmFN4aSB1rtT8M5FK0lv9-Jl9NmwHjigoMTtytCPfB1-KGI6sPzcVdeA1k6JoWC3r_xL0aAf-5G8LK6yB-GFw/s1600-h/7827_625910149131_25009058_36710612_2626540_n.jpg"> </a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCPw_iVr30GZCsnFXRxy-2XPJbRS-TNYxUKNBPTPFgq_7VBqBUiOpv2kGY7g5NaSlbenXRcmnwxBf58gwXi7RPtE_1NeKQy9i_77DRDGj3UFPZDiriRM40OWsZY7ROGmLPE6XbZ08fA/s1600-h/7827_625910109211_25009058_36710604_485217_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCPw_iVr30GZCsnFXRxy-2XPJbRS-TNYxUKNBPTPFgq_7VBqBUiOpv2kGY7g5NaSlbenXRcmnwxBf58gwXi7RPtE_1NeKQy9i_77DRDGj3UFPZDiriRM40OWsZY7ROGmLPE6XbZ08fA/s320/7827_625910109211_25009058_36710604_485217_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381188140676781922" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5naJGJiUaX5THMlylR6sN8PTKKoGxss-bmkAsYh4SRTVHymVhK1MnnELzFeMvfo1rR0LNazBR3JetD7ECgBrEd8fFWA3sEb5U4aJFJwTsSSVWE1ZuIQp08SOjd7RlwB5spNGsTelaw/s1600-h/Image022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5naJGJiUaX5THMlylR6sN8PTKKoGxss-bmkAsYh4SRTVHymVhK1MnnELzFeMvfo1rR0LNazBR3JetD7ECgBrEd8fFWA3sEb5U4aJFJwTsSSVWE1ZuIQp08SOjd7RlwB5spNGsTelaw/s320/Image022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378222762109146738" border="0" /></a>My camera is currently out of commission, but I am hoping to get it fixed soon. Despite the craziness of the city, I've managed to escape to a few green spaces. Here's a shot from one of my favorite spots: <a href="http://www.centralpark.com/pages/attractions/conservatory-garden.html">The Conservatory Garden</a> in Central Park<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI81lZjL5sbmxQCRQa-mmpOp7CzuUqCJcRKn9g8JrMuBnoaHVxchmI-uUD6FihjXmddEermOh8DKJR2OtBlxuaFYeG-O8c9Bo0-wdJpcl7_y2GGrJ4digIdAd4r2EAbEfBmgP-CGkjRA/s1600-h/IMG_2061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI81lZjL5sbmxQCRQa-mmpOp7CzuUqCJcRKn9g8JrMuBnoaHVxchmI-uUD6FihjXmddEermOh8DKJR2OtBlxuaFYeG-O8c9Bo0-wdJpcl7_y2GGrJ4digIdAd4r2EAbEfBmgP-CGkjRA/s320/IMG_2061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378223338407977266" border="0" /></a>My title says that I've calmed down a bit. Let me explain what that means- I've finally spent a few nights in my room, not wearing myself out. It seems that in my short time here, I have conquered the city; I've been to almost every borough, and have experienced a little bit of everything: Shakespeare in the park, free comedy shows, concerts, street musicians, Central Park, street festivals, etc.<br /><br />There was one particularly fantastic night that required much recovery. I met a friend of a friend in the city a few weeks ago, Brad (Arkansas), and we seemed to get a long pretty well, so we decided to hang out again. We were to see another free comedy show at UCB, so I headed to 26<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> street after walking the bridge with Stella. I waited in line and ended up behind two "lovely" gentleman- they were swigging whiskey on the sidewalk while snorting cocaine off of their keys. Rats were playing in the garden behind me as children skipped down the street. Most crowds at these shows are low key and chill, but these guys were definitely not. I made some small chat, though, and tried to read my tattered copy of "The Awakening" to escape. Arkansas and company finally show up, but we realize that there was no chance we would get in. (To explain- you must wait in line to get a free ticket to the 9:30 Sunday show. They hand them out at 8, meaning you should be in line by 6:30 to get a good seat. Depending on the weather or weekend, you may have to get there earlier. This was Labor Day weekend. We needed to get there earlier.) After realizing we had no chance, we decided to head to a festival in the East Village. We met another one of Arkansas' friends at 34<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> street, and headed to Alphabet City.<br /><br />I had a suspicion that the festival was over, as all material I had seen said it ended at 9. Arkansas is not one to give up, though, so we kept on going. We arrived to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tompkins_Square_Park">Tompkins Square Park</a> to find it empty. The streets in the Village are always alive, so it wasn't a completely barren scene. We were trying to figure out our next move- I'm younger than all of them, so bars were out of the question. We could head uptown and try to figure something out, but that would be a hassle, too. So we decided to hang out in the park a bit. The park has a cluster of chess boards at one corner. Wanting to play checkers, but being without pieces, we pulled out some changed and played a game of copper vs. silver. My team lost.<br /><br />I mentioned rats once before, but the rats were once again alive and well in Tompkins Square Park. I would look over thinking there was a squirrel running the grass, only to find it was a giant, NYC rat. I am still amazed every time I see one- they are HUGE. Luckily, they're not very common in my part of town. They seem to be everywhere downtown, probably due to the abundance of restaurants and trash.<br /><br />After finishing up our game, we finally came up with a plan. On the walk to the park we had passed a <a href="http://www.layalynyc.com/">Hookah Bar</a>. Being 19, I could legally get in, and the boys could enjoy a beer. So we gave it a go. We got a "cozy" table in the front, and ordered a Mango-flavored Hookah. Hitting the hookah bar in KC was one of my favorite activities, but I hadn't been since I moved back home. It was a lot of fun, and definitely very relaxing. I should have probably added that I actually didn't want to go out this night. I was feeling a bit down, and kind of just wanted to sleep and watch chick flicks.<br /><br />After finishing our Hookah, we decide to go to the Upper West Side. I'm walking up the street with three Columbia Grad students: one from Arkansas, one from Massachusetts, and the other from China. The entire way, Arkansas is trying to brush up on his French. The Chinese exchange student actually moved here from France, so he is owning Arkansas. It was just a funny experience, and something uniquely New York: a native Mandarin-speaker teaching us French while speaking English. Of course.<br /><br /> We decided to watch "I am Legend" at one of the boys' apartment. Despite all of the action, I couldn't help but try to identify where in the city Will Smith was. It seems that everything set in the city has this effect on me; while watching Gossip Girl tonight I audibly said "Hey, I've been there!" and then muttered the intersection.<br /><br />Once the movie finished, it was far into Labor Day morning. Knowing it was too late to safely head home, I start weighing my options. We talk a little, and I jokingly say "If we stay up a bit longer, the sun will be up, and I can safely head home." None of us took it seriously, and we decided to forge on with our goodbyes. Moments later the sun starts breaking the horizon, and we decide to go to breakfast. It's around 6:45 when we stumble upon this adorable French restaurant, <a href="http://cafedusoleilnyc.com/default.htm">Cafe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">du</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Soleil</span></a>. We try to go in, but they don't open until 7, so we wait outside. Once inside, we start on the buffet and go to town. I tried everything- fruit, fresh-squeezed orange juice, eggs, sausage, bacon, pastries- the list could go on. (If you ever come to visit me in NYC, remind me that we must go there.) By the time we finish our feast, it is past 9 in the AM. I decide it is safe for me to go home, so I start walking to the subway. Unfortunately I head towards the 1 train (I need the 2 or 3.) Faced with the option of catching a bus and most likely falling asleep, I take Arkansas up on his offer of an air mattress on his floor, and head to his apartment. Once there I sleep until 4. We get up, ascend to his roof, and take in the city. Then I head home. Being a holiday, my block was covered with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bbqs</span> and family gatherings. I passed Marvin Gaye tunes on the way in, and once settled, my back yard was filled with melodies of laughter and Opera. It was the perfect night, and it could only happen in New York.<br /><br />Ever since then, I've settled down. My health and sanity need the break. I also figure that if I keep this up, soon there will be no city left for me to explore. So now I'll take it easy, and focus on City Year. Once I get into more of a routine, I'm sure these nights will be back. Until then, however, I sleep.<br /><br />Sweet dreams,<br /><br />ErikaErika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-87671827077070701262009-08-23T23:39:00.008-05:002010-01-20T12:06:15.007-06:00The weekendI've been wanting to make sure that I post all of the things I've done. (Will post links when possible, so click 'em!)<br />Saturday:<br />Briefly went to a street festival in Spanish Harlem. Went back to 125th corridor to do some shopping, bought a new dress! Went out with my friend Ryan from Jersey to <a href="http://www.megurestaurants.com/">Megu</a>.<br />Sunday:<br />Attempted to go to a Girl Talk concert in Brooklyn, but was discouraged by the terrible crowd and the ridiculous amount of time between the opening act and the headline. Discovered that Brooklyn is indeed full of nothing but Hipsters, yet ate some delicious pizza at <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/driggs-ave-pizza-brooklyn">Driggs Ave Pizza</a>. Saw a guy do some cool pizza box tricks.<br />Finished unpacking my room, and explored my neighborhood a bit. Saw all of the ladies in Harlem wearing their Sunday's best. Apparently it's sunny in Heaven, as they all wear huge wide-brimmed hats.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH66dE4TCs5wb4MSXAw3xuHNaUJmmnM8BXr7qQ2cOl4XZ8Hff9rhM-ZbhBP18OWQzJlHJqsst1pJ-wkltakkmMede4DnPiFqY2PV_75Hn56Kjy6s17NloupVtJudJfe587Otv2hI9iQ/s1600-h/IMG_2056.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH66dE4TCs5wb4MSXAw3xuHNaUJmmnM8BXr7qQ2cOl4XZ8Hff9rhM-ZbhBP18OWQzJlHJqsst1pJ-wkltakkmMede4DnPiFqY2PV_75Hn56Kjy6s17NloupVtJudJfe587Otv2hI9iQ/s320/IMG_2056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373391316554027026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yGBeUppbYltKQRMO-qrVMDsMBlgjywjaG-pPdUhhvMsbF3JCKfVuwmw6NMr_IQ9afPnCdOcKCb90IbFK_nLCYm5seqshgvMpmD5fb6UoZt6ZdUFxCYWiz2-Cy11v_DA-4Ru_iTpa6A/s1600-h/IMG_2054.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yGBeUppbYltKQRMO-qrVMDsMBlgjywjaG-pPdUhhvMsbF3JCKfVuwmw6NMr_IQ9afPnCdOcKCb90IbFK_nLCYm5seqshgvMpmD5fb6UoZt6ZdUFxCYWiz2-Cy11v_DA-4Ru_iTpa6A/s320/IMG_2054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373391747869573522" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTPZRX0yk7LJKUcKdfW9YVDJRV3i-ZtEnz9OBpJ2CJpS16widD7sX2axIJhoAeLZMh9C2snH4KNSX8ShdkRGDPFGdwqmIWlPaLBGMxCgMvlJjBaJgpd8PxWvmswH3170Tq0w9zz3KG5A/s1600-h/IMG_2059.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTPZRX0yk7LJKUcKdfW9YVDJRV3i-ZtEnz9OBpJ2CJpS16widD7sX2axIJhoAeLZMh9C2snH4KNSX8ShdkRGDPFGdwqmIWlPaLBGMxCgMvlJjBaJgpd8PxWvmswH3170Tq0w9zz3KG5A/s320/IMG_2059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373392455214245938" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">My room and the view from my window. It's lovely to have trees outside!</span><br /></div>Went to <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&view=text&gl=us&q=pita+pan+cafe&ie=UTF8&hl=en&sll=40.745810,-73.998121&sspn=0.006295,0.006295&latlng=11066219353498655440&ei=UBmSSo-WG4rg9QSl5fG_Ag&sig2=Ffm9dRQhPt5xgkYspTrMcQ&cd=1&usq=pita+pan+cafe&geocode=FVK7bQId1-CW-w">Pita Pan Cafe</a> in Chelsea before standing in line for free tickets to <a href="http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/12">Asssscat 3000</a> at the Upright Citizens Brigade theater. Saw Seth Meyers and other SNL writers do improv.<br /><br /><br />I know this was a very straight forward, fact-based entry; I'm actually tired. I'm off to go sleep in the city that never does. :)Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-21822908620916765072009-08-22T01:09:00.009-05:002009-08-22T01:48:01.674-05:00First Day in the City<span style="font-family:times new roman;">I made it! I now officially live in New York, New York. The bit of time in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rolla</span> was nice, but I was so anxious about my upcoming move that I can't say I truly enjoyed it for all it was worth. Wednesday night i didn't sleep at all, but simply stayed up all night listening to the Theme from New York, New York. You know: "</span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">These little town blues </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">are melting away- I'll make a brand new start of it in old New York."<br /><br />Thursday could not have gone more perfectly. Sleep deprived, I was able to manufacture some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Z's</span> on the ride to the airport. My dad helped me unload my three bags, and I was off. The flight was a bit early, and my "guide" Dave was waiting for me when I arrived. We managed to only mildly irritate riders on the M60 bus with all of our luggage, and met my land lord Charles at the house. My room is actually better than I imagined; I have a couch, a desk, a dresser, two closets, a fireplace, two mirrors, and a full-size bed. I'm still not settled in yet, so I won't post any photos of the actual room, but just know that it is adorable.<br /></span></span><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">Dave left to go back to his apartment for the afternoon, so I roamed the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Lenox</span> Ave./125th corridor a bit and bought some essentials. The neighborhood is really a very vibrant place. There are ladies listening to Michael Jackson on their stoops in the middle of the day, children playing basketball across the street, vendors selling shaved ice and mangoes at every corner, and delis on every block. I really enjoy just soaking up the energy of the residents and the streets, knowing that I'm about to become apart of that b</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">uzzing</span>, alive vibe.<br /><br />Dave soon returned, though, and took me to the Broadway Show "Burn The Floor." It was quite excellent, and completely free thanks to his generosity. We also got to wander around Times Square for a bit, which was also a very fun experience. I know it's nothing but a "tourist" attraction, but I kind of like the endless masses of people from all over having the shared experience of seeing the same attraction</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">s and feeling the same excitement.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhlbx461cQERNuS_D3BExffYglD82lH6AzAonsoYBxUXktzLaU7IyxR2peBc36MY4l8O72AHAz1MoQtWtUcaQBqcCzVhiqoHfZDOjrj-fHbqddDA23a-Xh3euvGSMs7BOFnVnyUHt8w/s1600-h/000_0543.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhlbx461cQERNuS_D3BExffYglD82lH6AzAonsoYBxUXktzLaU7IyxR2peBc36MY4l8O72AHAz1MoQtWtUcaQBqcCzVhiqoHfZDOjrj-fHbqddDA23a-Xh3euvGSMs7BOFnVnyUHt8w/s320/000_0543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372666814541415810" border="0" /></a><br />Although Dave didn't stay for the show, he was a southern gentleman and came back to deliver me to my front porch. Of course he took pictures of the entire experience so that I could "show my mother." Here's me in front of my house on the first night. Notice the pretty flowers to the right. :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4Mby8WV_TXnc7qljzWAuo0HGq7CUEvwThZ86H9wjn2DeFfZY7VBMugYSd7snAx4qzh7F8P77FhacvSu0lvDFNJm0BVxr6oUmJ08-FIzXgdJyugYG2np8sX2ji1C-XQvPMCJ1ETWBig/s1600-h/000_0547.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4Mby8WV_TXnc7qljzWAuo0HGq7CUEvwThZ86H9wjn2DeFfZY7VBMugYSd7snAx4qzh7F8P77FhacvSu0lvDFNJm0BVxr6oUmJ08-FIzXgdJyugYG2np8sX2ji1C-XQvPMCJ1ETWBig/s320/000_0547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372666957760904850" border="0" /></a>Today I stayed around until two, and met up with a friend of a friend to go shopping. We were to meet at the 125<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> subway stop, so I headed down there around 1:45 and waited for him to show up. I learned two things: 1) It is not easy to find somebody you have never met on a crowded street corner and 2) There is not necessarily any great spot to wait for said person on a street corner. I managed to snag a spot under the Starbucks awning, where I met quite a few interesting characters. I was next to a lady who would yell at other women about how they had "Nappy Hair!" or "You can't get a man with a weave as bad as that!" She was, of course, offering her hair braiding services to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">passerbys</span>. She did manage to snag a client, so she picked up her chair and left. Her spot was not vacant for long. A minute later, a gentleman carrying a black trash bag stands next to me. He starts muttering "Newport. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Newports</span>. Newport." to people as the round the corner. I'm sitting here thinking "Is this guy saying <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Newports</span>? Like the cigarettes? Can't be" and was making a mental note to look up slang variations on Newport. Ten minutes pass, and someone says "How much?" He tells him said price, and they start making a deal. I scoot over, as this is making me a little uncomfortable. He pulls something out of the sack, and what do you know- it's a pack of Newport cigarettes! I kind of just chuckled to myself, and soon Brad was calling.<br /><br />We rode the train to the Bronx to shop at a Target. We got off at the wrong stop, but I enjoyed walking the distance, seeing the neighborhood, and getting to know him. I had one mission for the entire day: buy a fan. My room doesn't have air conditioning (it could, but I'm a cheapskate) so a fan is crucial. We saw a few good deals on the way, but decided we would wait until after Target to stop. By the time we finished, we were pretty beat, so we just headed back to my room, then to get some lunch. Luckily I met one of my hall mates whom pointed me in the direction of a discount housewares store on 125<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">th</span>, Gem, and was able to continue my mission. The store was packed full of goods, and was fairly cheap. I managed to buy a fan, and they did the neatest thing. I know I'm from the country, but seriously, I just thought this was so neat: After purchasing the fan, the lady said "Go to the front, and they'll make a handle for you." Thinking "Okay?" I trudged to the front of the store. The guy wrapped twine around the box, and then attached this metal/cardboard hook tot he box creating a perfectly comfortable handle. I triumphantly marched the five blocks home past street corner preachers and bodega groceries to my room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-qKiVO93qFv85DbrAdQC1vGr2HmLGPmlX0GUV5wimWPpSC3WdfJHjHXuoxjTH2lfFRr61Nn3CffwGGaImd3wSkj3NA6P-NSDZRN6GhsWY0i3rqRDsqS1wVPZcSs6Wo84WYM9LxvnNQ/s1600-h/Photo+126.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-qKiVO93qFv85DbrAdQC1vGr2HmLGPmlX0GUV5wimWPpSC3WdfJHjHXuoxjTH2lfFRr61Nn3CffwGGaImd3wSkj3NA6P-NSDZRN6GhsWY0i3rqRDsqS1wVPZcSs6Wo84WYM9LxvnNQ/s320/Photo+126.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372673772130040722" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Aaaah</span>, sweet relief.<br /><br />I was almost planning on resting and unpacking this evening, but decided to be adventurous and did my first solo subway ride. I rode down to Lincoln Square in midtown to see a movie, Adam. Despite my mother's wishes, I did ride the subway after ten 'o clock at night. I saw a police officer at every stop, and a few on the walk home . I managed to not get lost-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">yay</span>!- and had a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">wonderful</span> gentleman talk to me on the phone on my journey to 130<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">th</span>. :-)<br /><br />The movie was fantastic, and very fitting. It's about a romance in New York City (where I live now!) and about going out, finding your own path, doing what you love despite the odds (hey! that's me!) In it there was a song by 'The Weepies' that I've heard, but never really listened to. It had a very fitting line, though-<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I can't really say</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Why everybody wishes they were somewhere else</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> But in the end, the only steps that matter</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Are the ones you take all by yourself"<br /><br /></span>I hope you enjoy the music. Rain drops are falling on the tree outside of my window, the temperature is dropping, and my fan is still going. I'm off to enjoy all of the above.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6JscAwVu2QI&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6JscAwVu2QI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-82255410894975113302009-08-11T10:48:00.011-05:002009-08-13T14:10:58.295-05:00Last of the Goat Blogs.<div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Erika.Leigh.Lewis/HeiferRanch?feat=directlink"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It's a Great Day at Heifer Ranch.</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">It's my last day at Heifer Ranch. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">click above.</span></span></i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRhw3J2PyIqzGGCF5-zR2FGy-dBbmSOecAPzLdu16v39a-gtx1qW21TMQmx2T7atK__-xoaJoM2yp2Lhn2fhzLGnaEBaOAqbA430auXAyTUTGfTiVl9BO2ul1fTp7-poGKofGip826Q/s400/goat.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368733977642935410" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Though the Body Moves, The Soul May Stay Behind</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">-Murasaki Shikibu</span></span></b></span></div><blockquote><div><blockquote><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 21px; "><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><br /></blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"><br /></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "></span></blockquote></span></div></div></blockquote></div></blockquote><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div></div>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-74696498307760091412009-08-10T15:38:00.001-05:002009-08-11T10:32:08.061-05:00VideosOn a happier note, here are some videos of my cousins singing guitar hero. Enjoy.<br /><center><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pz8y7_mnolM&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pz8y7_mnolM&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dPjZkvnJvvE&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dPjZkvnJvvE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></center>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-31309250246143045612009-08-10T09:10:00.015-05:002009-08-10T14:55:18.950-05:00I've got the world on a string<div style="text-align: left;">So here it is- my last week on the ranch. I'm having a hard time realizing it. This place has been my everything for the past six months; it's hard for me to remember life before Heifer Ranch. Now, here I am, saying goodbye to my beautiful home in Arkansas.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>It's going to be surreal not walking out to see sheep, camels, cows, and water buffalo every day. I will no longer have the opportunity to milk a goat when I please. I'll no longer be able to sit in a hammock to watch the sunset behind the hills.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know I should be focusing on the things I am going to do.</div><div> I am excited about my adventure coming up, really. I'm just realizing more and more how much I will miss ole Arkansas.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>The past few weeks have been non-stop. </div><div>Everybody is leaving, so we're trying to pack in as much time together as possible. I've said far too many goodbyes to people, and am stressed out that I have to say even more. I know that the next few days will be fun, and I'm trying to enjoy them as much as possible.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>A few weeks ago I got the opportunity to go to the annual Jefferson-Jackson dinner. I was able to meet governor Beebe, both Senator Blanche and Lincoln, and a few local representatives. It was a lot of fun, and I'm grateful that some lovely Arkansan felt that I was special enough to buy a ticket for. My friends here on the ranch worked together to make it an almost prom-like experience: Rocky did my hair, and Caby did a photo shoot. Here are the results:</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqg_i1IcdEZdV861a-i6040Iynhp6CZ351HLIRZO9TQHvZQUb3UUf6D01bdZEZnY1U2gIOmQfKciD7wzORu0TLJP9g7yQX2Xspzg4GEydelHvS3YY5NOAaYSbtHZMzo12jP7Vck01QiQ/s400/jjdinner.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368407556831985986" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzWex9GDFeOiYEqRnffP27v_ICnCSClBkjRLewpWhWdIvNe90IIfxUW8VWzrJjkCaJA4899Q75aXhu2oXb6v_kZiOdPEwsqTsFzQ858vheiRaJX9bS7xUvSepAUmF2WvTaciAK7pSv5Q/s400/jjdinner2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368407339027101762" /><div style="text-align: center;">Last weekend I was able to go home to visit my two cousins from California, JJ and Emily. I had a blast with them; they are two crazy cats who never fail to make me smile. Mom, Dad, and I took them on a float trip Sunday afternoon. That was quite the experience- two L.A. kids on the Gasconade in Missouri. It was a lot of fun, and I'm glad I made the 6 hour drive.</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinD5vgsS_oUkrV73fh1bV2_FHQ2yb9FnE2QvB2LBEwonjgUmdmtWoaick1ndDzGrTGb1xY2Hrk2_gENP84BEuuUS3nsshyEYRNeS65ilY9mea4qn18WxKdCONkXPIJ2oUrAKI8LwI5WQ/s400/grandpa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368410820922073378" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrPwIxThnXrhhrvlg3I0Tm_mz4Nn9Q_UmmrBUHEY69UADE4dbUn3nBaUpBmVtUO7HNGTNpVxwlPBa9TkSyMkzXdk_w7n8EvenBFU7vH4LpedTurJmbVRbUZw0DBKrvcOJkzYrwq-MGw/s400/hummingbirds.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368410816175249906" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vCsN44IEsEM51FMkqEavKhrjmnZHmmY0llJsgaurF1fhAEqmXFNYi8iqJPmpv6HUXduIhhbskSJvUx7QDXQWTNCfxW1yVQgKNkWJ_8WCCg8b6AsBZ0K0RoE0-TSn77rPgPplSIGaeQ/s400/emily+in+car.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368410809665029970" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoETi35cxAvksJSYKNSvhY9WbDfsLjLINy_0hZaurRMYgykDccWXBaupsO9fUao-MkYs_BaAWQUQg_9ehRFoyWlbjAnwVlqjou17NdboerWWLi9jextbqedmhqPMMJuCNb7wqcFu6y3g/s400/fireworks2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368410806173010498" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLMDYYswNXmlqnhswEgeePe6jW3jFn-SA0N0BmIB3Jv-zKdjver3htyW45BWEeBDV9fqPCUqYK4hQv_1dJd0NFx4qlLdWiNyMusDv4XgG98ClH92USCmcPgSjMkkosK31H2dRwU6KgA/s400/fireworks.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368410804457258882" /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Last Thursday I went to this Crazy concert experience in Little Rock. This band, the <a href="http://www.whatcheerbrigade.com/music/">What Cheer? Brigade!</a> from Providence, RI marches through the streets of towns forming an impromptu parade. We dressed up (the girls as flower children, I in my cat ears) and marched with them to a block party. It was tons of fun; I danced all night. I managed to meet an old volunteer of the Heifer Learning Center in Massachusetts, and talked to him about music, the Peace Corps, and Little Rock. I then met somebody who had heard of (drum roll, please) The Baxter! My favorite movie written by the funniest man in Brooklyn, Michael Showalter. I have loved this movie for years, and have yet to find another who had heard of it. My heart was jumping, and the adrenaline kept on coming all night long. It was cut short after midnight due to a noise complaint, but it was still a night I will never forget.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGvdV8L6VY1vedoD_R_QGOqGOeDQdMqjXAD0EIgAa5zc-DOLp9xLs46tlUlLgiIMjQim-us1sTi3efIUnXKmJ026Emo_DpF2QPv1p9d1GSnFB4IECYNCfns1BdmfxHmye_8dqVoYzLQ/s400/paradecaroline.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412031409049378" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPVIL3OKezmqrk2MoEDyoI1jvwcUv9i2KAOseCxn10GC9Cg7wUL9uk3MMT-ITIBG25GHuw4hvJMcVTxSEolxin-jw830B_TdMsuz9yJqQYyNuiRJX9rr37MjCNyNCXejLI8H5W-5e3w/s400/parademadalyn.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368413001421559506" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYkWs2zqC1cCShc4wJJGrZm6t35wQb2z1uENcJgDenBhZCjcG1GP4ZO9H7apVxWRmIYOwqGREX1knkk51cmuWoFNO2B0ddSY-V-ertrGOqOkvUv3szyHOvJ8W9J4CWw75ggciMcEt7tw/s400/paradeposter.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368413002784303746" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAwi4WT0kDbzSBTRLOUC9mUq4g-JBJ6Hd6asHoRi1vRGqQRigcETR_S3T_Djtn4Z6L3ABMvCLpWkeHKYb60DJlpIf4bMoQ54qGNDemeI9M_FTYWNFvel8tHEzh3rYJYRlm5GWtPqrGg/s400/paradeband.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412035400905522" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0SCDWywxeSjPIq4Ybil2D-zYXNVg0a3rf1JOWLt4UcWs2FPBvhP7EpN4lxoN1e1vE9jyIB1B9UZ1QIjWyDw5ia3j1MjGEfBoSU9kak1vX_ga3OYXjUsUvhteGKfQueoqZKf-1UbKeg/s400/paradekara.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412996709351506" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ax5Y7sI3La1T5EGhwzR-IV4F5tYbi0HAHX9_Vpsn8gNhgB7xmKw5cqXfTKMF1m6zTvXohTEeKMVXsXPU5pwvTIUhPJ7rTJiztWTuXZgDosEu8ocZoYQIXYVTPjksAfz1sdp6707tnw/s400/paradehill.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412053039563490" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpxoGXAdRxiWWSoB_eWov0XvOlbUt-6x6inU4knPvaAG4Mtjq2dggxv6kELRMaodBrOxPl5sP7vjuJLfsOS79PJAHDPMgUUyH_EonxYx1X_YACHTH41Hen9rfQrV4IcI1ahxmqqqGkg/s400/paradegraffiti.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412040443703266" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIt0YzO2M3z9lza01uBgz1rdRLQWylMN2cpiwyO0-cifTU0Q-DUhYARyy8P8sBq_-S1gkIVkNqUfP7fnKGMtHxgFAwAsN8Xv09bLj3LmmDUTqXX9do-pgSH9DmyE1ri84YRp_sDTxrLw/s400/paradehappy.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368412049986620722" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgqjwGqxbs229s49VtNwhSJzdE4K2UUMOT1-5AS_quwxzlcm0_eLKYd6L_hzBjTmbz9fU4JJ3ElSM72bde3T3Xi0K4JIxffPPPUbWDIAuClVc79qxc5tlLB4_Chsaj86JXN6QdNjAFQ/s400/paradetuba.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368413006308178914" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OaI0esESCDddHoOjZ8UIyvei5kffwGA-W_Bqo0YWmtoRTyz9yDXdDP_ey0li8kPOVJxseJQ59RDWWqm4-1PW-m9vMXTnTY-YhK1LtgAukSQA7X5LRZvpPAusVG8Dw2hV2z5oWfNatQ/s400/paradethenothing.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368413018367110978" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">This past Friday we had yet another going away party, and yet another theme party. This one is called an ABC party (for you old folks, that's an Anything But Clothes party.) It may sound risque, but most people are fully clothed. You wear garments, but you make them out of, you guessed it, anything but clothes. People constructed their outfits out of feed bags, newspapers, boxes, witch hats, beer boxes, inner tubes, trash bags, pillow cases, flowers, rope bags, etc. You name it, we probably used it. We're used to recycling, so perhaps that's why our outfits were so swell. Mei was adorable in a paper crane-adorned feed bag. I opted to use newspapers for a skirt, and then made myself a newspaper dispenser for the Heifer Herald. Sadly my outfit didn't quite hold up in the dance party, but I managed to make it work.</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZi7-qBX-EuQ_BKyQIEVdIcdkA_bmJNV0LG22YaY3lf2uk7ifCbMlFuaDA1NyFWu67quQjnrt-BYjlGhA5Xf8znXS1LwZAfphyarLj7wG9j7Dvxt5Skp3fQIapX0WaY_Id7OhH3WgVJw/s400/abcmei.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368416755141518738" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9ErV8jwqXNuzWz5ZnOnJhSM-vVenJVC_pQGbu3p8nQxDKF4c_DUV76o8BXQe1ODH0A-x2paHPpWJ3WzDKNLiEZT0WhmfFznAxVW8THqaK2Hdo1mxrm3NcEpSljUtS5TmdZHW8RpGnw/s400/abc.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368416744799677378" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzwxhzJ6oLeC-iDqUMHVgE8qsigD2x9YQIrjTP4JMg1lrFD144V6hi_-uzGHbl-VR3A2Dwjl5o_qjeyyrtAqXk0cN0E85ezCS9f18wiZcye6jGXDRZ8s3MQB1UcplR-gZYW4pnTm_Sw/s400/abcbox.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368416752506764194" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUH2V_D3REAiEI4RpkCh1hHXCPzgfFhDZmq2pXUGgd3IJJBeQP-GOYiP7-w1z6JZFU1mPcMOt7zplIFTnufdJefzN3wks7ngctE6YAL7QQBSW4Qfce8_4LA5wSdUVybIieY9P107LVvg/s400/abcdance.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368416750799268994" /><div style="text-align: left;">My brother and sister-in-law drove from Nashville on Saturday to visit, and got to see the last bits of my life here on the ranch. I'm fairly certain they had a good time, but one can never know. They were able to meet most of the major players in my life for the past few months, and got to see the beautiful land I live on. We also got to push boundaries- we went "night swimming" and did some high challenge elements (rock wall! eek! zip line! eek!) with my housemate Stephen and company on Sunday. They took me to work this morning, met my supervisors, then went off on their merry way. I'm really glad they visited, and am ecstatic that they're happy; my brother picked a good one.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After they left I got to help pluck chickens at the chicken-chopping station and then said one sad goodbye. Now it's just Michal, (sometimes) Chance, and me in Nearside. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Arkansas, Arkansas: I just love ole Arkansas.</b></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-65138021778795856772009-07-27T15:57:00.013-05:002009-08-11T10:39:36.737-05:00This may be God's country, but it's my country too.Once again, I've failed at updating. I reckon that's a good sign, as it means I've been staying busy.<br /><br />The Ranch is definitely more lively during the summer than other seasons. There are tons of volunteers here- around 50- so we never really stay bored. There are soccer games, ultimate <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">frisbee</span> games, power walking clubs(er. . .Mei and I power walk after work sometimes), reading groups, theme parties, swimming trips, movie nights, etc. You name it, we do it. I feel like when I got to the ranch, my expectations of the pace were met- it was laid back and slow. Although it still remains laid back, it is definitely not slow. If I wanted to, I could be on the go at all times. Luckily my house is full of wonderful people and fun activities, so I mostly stick around Nearside. The end of the season has made things even more chaotic; as people leave, the parties and goodbyes grow more frequent. It reminds me of graduation season, since everybody is having a potluck or get together before they head off on their next journey.<br /><br />My house has changed even more since my last update. William is gone on an adventure across New England. We now have Michal from Poland living in the Suite. We were all nervous that he would change the dynamic, but he blends in perfectly. It's really neat to hear his insights on American culture and the Ranch. I've often talked to Josh, one of the volunteers from Germany, about the differences in culture, but I feel like Michal's comparisons are a little more drastic. He's awesome, though. When we picked him up from the airport, he said "Oh, what's up? Listen to me, I sound so American." I just love him. Chance has also moved out of 'The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Otherside</span>' (or the shed) and is now sleeping indoors. I seriously hit the roommate jackpot, and can only hope that I am this lucky in New York.<br /><br />I flitted off to New Jersey for a week to escape the 100-degree weather. I was able to see some old friends from the campaign, and also meet some new ones. When I got back I expected to be greeted by the same intense humidity I left. However, I was pleasantly surprised when I walked off the plane on the 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> of July to 80-degree weather. It has been steadily cool since then, too, and for that I am thankful. My friend Adam (who came to visit last weekend) claims he put in some favors to get the nice weather, but I really think Mother Nature knew we needed a break from the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">intense</span> heat.<br /><br />Not only did I get a visit from a good friend last weekend, but I was able to visit my brother and new sister in Nashville. I really needed some family time, so the trip was really fun. It was neat to learn about their new life together while seeing some sights. I did not eat BBQ in Memphis on the drive back though, which I sorely regret.<br /><br /><br />It seems that I'm really bad at staying in one place this summer. I'm rarely on the Ranch during my days off anymore- I'm off traveling the country visiting friends while I have the chance. That restlessness may be contributing to my bizarre emotions lately. I've always been a sap, but lately I can't cry. Not in my favorite movie, not while reading my favorite book, not for anything. I would say that I'm dead inside, but that is simply not the case. I've been feeling the need to cry, and I'll even tear up a little, but the tears will never actually fall. It's a terrible, terrible feeling to not be able to cry. I think it may be due to the fact that I haven't really had any roots this past year. It's fun to go off on new adventures and meet new people, but it's also very nice to have familiarity mixed in with that adventure. The phone and visits can only do so much, but I feel like my next year-long stint will be good for me. I'll be able to settle down a bit while meeting new people every day.<br /><br />This Sunday was my first day off in quite some time that I just vegged. I got up, changed into a more comfy set of pajamas, and watched cartoons all day. It was pleasant, and I savored every moment of it. Unfortunately it was mostly due to an injury to the knee that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">occurred</span> Saturday night while on a bike ride. The abrasion has finally scabbed over, but now it is swollen and extremely sore. I'm getting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ancy</span>, as I haven't really been able to walk in the past few days, and am hoping that it gets better soon. I'm heading home this weekend, and a six-hour drive with a bum knee does not sound pleasant.<br /><br />I feel kind of weird preparing to leave. I have a few bags packed already, and am starting to say all of my goodbyes. This has been my home for half of one year. I know the ins and outs of Nearside, of the Ranch, of central Arkansas. I've just now established myself as a member of this community, and it is weird to leave that all behind. I would like to say that it was more difficult leaving my home in Missouri the last few times this year, but I'm not so sure. I have set up my own network, my own room, my own life here. When you work hard to do something for yourself, it really is more difficult to let it go.<br /><br />Enough of that sappy hog-wash. I still have a few more weeks here, and I plan on living it up while I can. I hope to be taking Arkansas, and the Ranch, for a crazy ride.Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-56007341585761406242009-07-15T11:33:00.045-05:002009-08-11T10:41:27.062-05:00As I See It (or whoever has my camera.)<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span>The past month:<br /></span></div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Masquerade Ball</span></span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrSbeCVoGpMqjvG_tGD6tY_F08oPdNva6gSQ0_dNUcnokFF9cNjzCBmmCtPxLW6JWqM7NRYHFgWyxUbMthPVEMNszAR5ovltH32dHFIBfukKlcYxAjB8V7esYp4bBx9qOpBpnoiGKWQ/s1600-h/IMG_1643.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrSbeCVoGpMqjvG_tGD6tY_F08oPdNva6gSQ0_dNUcnokFF9cNjzCBmmCtPxLW6JWqM7NRYHFgWyxUbMthPVEMNszAR5ovltH32dHFIBfukKlcYxAjB8V7esYp4bBx9qOpBpnoiGKWQ/s320/IMG_1643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360807765714485218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeIkv-iM4YMkH8gPEiiv0z6GLhzpwuN3TUilYkypUkjNhQ6rgc6dPeFTyCMbNpAFtpClO8KQFP3wX1CNkICLgIgzXua8iVdlvtksKOBVGceAtALpOt9JeR6t9wmD7_5lp7zz-s_JGzQ/s1600-h/IMG_1633.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeIkv-iM4YMkH8gPEiiv0z6GLhzpwuN3TUilYkypUkjNhQ6rgc6dPeFTyCMbNpAFtpClO8KQFP3wX1CNkICLgIgzXua8iVdlvtksKOBVGceAtALpOt9JeR6t9wmD7_5lp7zz-s_JGzQ/s320/IMG_1633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360807514788342194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIxOxt_o_lP5jyiT9Wb5wITgZJw8A8F-LaLIZZ4UTw2l_MLsLYim0wp2q0CsKbIJrEr0XqJVmyu1yw8v_bD8GQnwTCrTyqb8HUi1uNEkcB2_0OiStS8xh8MFQYxU95JYGpk9bw7PFmQ/s1600-h/IMG_1627.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIxOxt_o_lP5jyiT9Wb5wITgZJw8A8F-LaLIZZ4UTw2l_MLsLYim0wp2q0CsKbIJrEr0XqJVmyu1yw8v_bD8GQnwTCrTyqb8HUi1uNEkcB2_0OiStS8xh8MFQYxU95JYGpk9bw7PFmQ/s320/IMG_1627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360807398062076882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WOgC2B6FDjbLhC6WkWbVcpDscNkTW-JjUp9SacjX-LBznEB1-amKZMH7FdJa8DOvEI-s_iP8zU_LnQgIRTnyNecHvS_6gZi5XkfLXyhQHtMZFqYqr8weap-SW9WMwJ76H_23ZLHE9g/s1600-h/IMG_1618.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WOgC2B6FDjbLhC6WkWbVcpDscNkTW-JjUp9SacjX-LBznEB1-amKZMH7FdJa8DOvEI-s_iP8zU_LnQgIRTnyNecHvS_6gZi5XkfLXyhQHtMZFqYqr8weap-SW9WMwJ76H_23ZLHE9g/s320/IMG_1618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360807136375678290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYfdDy17OmLg1-dMcToBsbYOoxaiT5HU-CLhE849KLRVgyJM6GiHP8Cyw33gfepyPFunexlw59iLXgrNhc3Ze3MZjYilpLRt54KUkhGtUC-oER5c6GR4Ft1aMxrPBQrBcS9A9ReR00Q/s1600-h/IMG_1610.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYfdDy17OmLg1-dMcToBsbYOoxaiT5HU-CLhE849KLRVgyJM6GiHP8Cyw33gfepyPFunexlw59iLXgrNhc3Ze3MZjYilpLRt54KUkhGtUC-oER5c6GR4Ft1aMxrPBQrBcS9A9ReR00Q/s320/IMG_1610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360806957886896162" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kwjuU2kJyNycUZxQHCs_JX5-WVZFwCDVQEaMes4upfKV-qwpmg5lRrcTLnOYmhv4Knkjye-vSTRQ8UXn_KsUPOveARGlQVGzSJn0dTXAYt2kQoyQS-AixFxt0GqPUnAGyrP5MZzmYg/s1600-h/IMG_1613.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kwjuU2kJyNycUZxQHCs_JX5-WVZFwCDVQEaMes4upfKV-qwpmg5lRrcTLnOYmhv4Knkjye-vSTRQ8UXn_KsUPOveARGlQVGzSJn0dTXAYt2kQoyQS-AixFxt0GqPUnAGyrP5MZzmYg/s320/IMG_1613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360806803710983890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Little Rock Central High School</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKrESYHSYmuirqozViqdxtHa9hi__6eoWzb9nrwrG-9lQPOHkpStMg60eEAiGUnvSOUJsDFz7UWIfQTMaR_HJq9LlqiikkLgGtbjqOoQ0xXqjkxkuV7-F1D1Us_mum8fai6-xP95bug/s1600-h/IMG_1590.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKrESYHSYmuirqozViqdxtHa9hi__6eoWzb9nrwrG-9lQPOHkpStMg60eEAiGUnvSOUJsDFz7UWIfQTMaR_HJq9LlqiikkLgGtbjqOoQ0xXqjkxkuV7-F1D1Us_mum8fai6-xP95bug/s320/IMG_1590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360806646809146498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOvEOMeiTiXeQDTxp2iICU6aYUsH8zZ8iSCYDnlCo4mRRKr8n6oft6mUHW080fEDTXzeAIojfbD07gar4ZlLT95sMJsMLrUVdUbp4yroSFwFbnuZgPvWKns0kaHSThHDgRWWMmumbnw/s1600-h/IMG_1592.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOvEOMeiTiXeQDTxp2iICU6aYUsH8zZ8iSCYDnlCo4mRRKr8n6oft6mUHW080fEDTXzeAIojfbD07gar4ZlLT95sMJsMLrUVdUbp4yroSFwFbnuZgPvWKns0kaHSThHDgRWWMmumbnw/s320/IMG_1592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360806055679724306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQizH0woQSpSLqiT7dk_zS8OA9K6XOBI3snYo633V7rCvrEkTpGmWO9s28v_UVkzuKJCLltHxcyKlB0V1O34ozeD44UalVFgHAIsSbXyhyFTjgtWgaLDevY_lwUxLxD5QZfsBLYSEURg/s1600-h/IMG_1567.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQizH0woQSpSLqiT7dk_zS8OA9K6XOBI3snYo633V7rCvrEkTpGmWO9s28v_UVkzuKJCLltHxcyKlB0V1O34ozeD44UalVFgHAIsSbXyhyFTjgtWgaLDevY_lwUxLxD5QZfsBLYSEURg/s320/IMG_1567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360806430148604274" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Around the Ranch</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nriw8bwGU_WSDeylvG9W3IZn49iDPG9djtZBQcY2y2W164pnHvxMl53EMXiyOy0xRizXG9Dv42LMaGhVVVVkPYOjKtJ1bDfw1O62G60JN8_NBEH1un_nRilTt3QsH29-BCy6gcsbsA/s1600-h/IMG_1593.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nriw8bwGU_WSDeylvG9W3IZn49iDPG9djtZBQcY2y2W164pnHvxMl53EMXiyOy0xRizXG9Dv42LMaGhVVVVkPYOjKtJ1bDfw1O62G60JN8_NBEH1un_nRilTt3QsH29-BCy6gcsbsA/s320/IMG_1593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360805896175662354" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIFCcqTaCr73LQjhO56kEGVFtCPF6CWEnSanFZ45h9IfKiGmRX_tJr9wBdMqS2MSiMIxN-doj6nd-hVZBCQd4jqN2EuZkbNmgAvzhzBAdFFtF6OsYB-u5oAKDufPLv9LAvXRdx_Z0PA/s1600-h/IMG_1492.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIFCcqTaCr73LQjhO56kEGVFtCPF6CWEnSanFZ45h9IfKiGmRX_tJr9wBdMqS2MSiMIxN-doj6nd-hVZBCQd4jqN2EuZkbNmgAvzhzBAdFFtF6OsYB-u5oAKDufPLv9LAvXRdx_Z0PA/s320/IMG_1492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360805283114110770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBED3dDr14n0YirfjYnTOYnSqs5-SSRYA9UCwhe8t4-WXQLS_1ovDGiKXJdkJ6fyEnvaSTE-0MMiD880W5Cyz5W32IbT2UWk-5rOX_rqQtL0G1GUAWMMZgeqWL9k4S1xqkd_3nFOGA3w/s1600-h/IMG_1563.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBED3dDr14n0YirfjYnTOYnSqs5-SSRYA9UCwhe8t4-WXQLS_1ovDGiKXJdkJ6fyEnvaSTE-0MMiD880W5Cyz5W32IbT2UWk-5rOX_rqQtL0G1GUAWMMZgeqWL9k4S1xqkd_3nFOGA3w/s320/IMG_1563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360805565804164034" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAFxpFohQAnb7i9dvXaBITt-pWd9b-CrvyktTdFJ4ZuHI4sDn-_7iQ0oKmB_LkzDoBPOyLPt6Df9rVffkfFbYt9FLKCnQPa8O00k9h32wygP4Bkzgv1EoXla2WKw5djT4dz9P15gAgw/s1600-h/IMG_1486.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAFxpFohQAnb7i9dvXaBITt-pWd9b-CrvyktTdFJ4ZuHI4sDn-_7iQ0oKmB_LkzDoBPOyLPt6Df9rVffkfFbYt9FLKCnQPa8O00k9h32wygP4Bkzgv1EoXla2WKw5djT4dz9P15gAgw/s320/IMG_1486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360805021443199618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwVgAz8achOcyu-u5MqLI4FUI7C_ZwLfkeDvIBgqvkqappGY8heIXEOk9qn__9eLzTPHFDkO54j2qRC29jYZabN6m6E1U3y6o46-dMDt3_Jtlz3dPGo0kDRNn2P7ibJpOKl25Q8G3lg/s1600-h/IMG_1478.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwVgAz8achOcyu-u5MqLI4FUI7C_ZwLfkeDvIBgqvkqappGY8heIXEOk9qn__9eLzTPHFDkO54j2qRC29jYZabN6m6E1U3y6o46-dMDt3_Jtlz3dPGo0kDRNn2P7ibJpOKl25Q8G3lg/s320/IMG_1478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360804925439949682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3tg4WQYQ7oPFM1JB9bQXUuxyufzSxh5t-g5tBmW_QbFGVKQYUD2a3tBWQEZVxsP9OGUnjns4SxvVfEv6OvRjcA_CTVXIPTouW1XeSDMxQRMtMaPZJ_gSHqZwN2Foziggomc9xiHPgg/s1600-h/IMG_1467.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3tg4WQYQ7oPFM1JB9bQXUuxyufzSxh5t-g5tBmW_QbFGVKQYUD2a3tBWQEZVxsP9OGUnjns4SxvVfEv6OvRjcA_CTVXIPTouW1XeSDMxQRMtMaPZJ_gSHqZwN2Foziggomc9xiHPgg/s320/IMG_1467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360804731052494706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpCoWy5ysX3DAXkXodHiLuu2oycbdtcUdnPtOBPL5RneZNuatyk8FicXaKznUCHPKQzzIc7PRZZ8mN8aR5mSNkR9MeFOcztbyGYGe1DBLjQ0bCvIlwX9bVj7He3ZksIDmPtqn3CfsGA/s1600-h/IMG_1414.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpCoWy5ysX3DAXkXodHiLuu2oycbdtcUdnPtOBPL5RneZNuatyk8FicXaKznUCHPKQzzIc7PRZZ8mN8aR5mSNkR9MeFOcztbyGYGe1DBLjQ0bCvIlwX9bVj7He3ZksIDmPtqn3CfsGA/s320/IMG_1414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360804625647616130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMu3D67TsVM-rf61W_tWGTZbgGDX-BuYdlHf8ga3-Qri-4l7hZwsI0zV301uXKVdJJKQmtgS9yh24zVmX8MxA9Cyu7xF4VLKiUY1PQjVqy3DDIP80CY3wphwhbqEV7MFgxRMJ5HYtBrw/s1600-h/IMG_1395.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMu3D67TsVM-rf61W_tWGTZbgGDX-BuYdlHf8ga3-Qri-4l7hZwsI0zV301uXKVdJJKQmtgS9yh24zVmX8MxA9Cyu7xF4VLKiUY1PQjVqy3DDIP80CY3wphwhbqEV7MFgxRMJ5HYtBrw/s320/IMG_1395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360804271248844706" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=" font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">4th of July in New Jersey</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKaOyVFsgWCHXQsDrHNOtc-iJ5Hx_5PSZQAMhghqGsyajilR1Ed6905NR_jC3J6kzVf66YNnC52fqedBSBZEMf8OVkZ9nzp98yuW_UNbA9tzraZKDkszM7xvCvPavvzPs5tj5nLbnLQ/s1600-h/IMG_1371.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKaOyVFsgWCHXQsDrHNOtc-iJ5Hx_5PSZQAMhghqGsyajilR1Ed6905NR_jC3J6kzVf66YNnC52fqedBSBZEMf8OVkZ9nzp98yuW_UNbA9tzraZKDkszM7xvCvPavvzPs5tj5nLbnLQ/s320/IMG_1371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360803800459726306" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY_jaeeBC9npOWYPdn7kMu7gH9l2_riBz2yW23UZa1-kYC6sWcITG9H8UyKMeaJKxYQznCah5dW0chg-sSRfd5rteEwktngm6hNDt30j63Vg_elyL43WQ9zP_KafkqkMQOqm5j1RY9g/s1600-h/IMG_1355.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY_jaeeBC9npOWYPdn7kMu7gH9l2_riBz2yW23UZa1-kYC6sWcITG9H8UyKMeaJKxYQznCah5dW0chg-sSRfd5rteEwktngm6hNDt30j63Vg_elyL43WQ9zP_KafkqkMQOqm5j1RY9g/s320/IMG_1355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360803477946052642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfagUcICdlsNCs5GVEHL00hWhVNO51MPPe6MqSMENPFEIO45_cLZg7WgphELfqvyPKY6AOoBl9kbRthTwccWQq4QxxnpGa5HAhDEa5XQLkoiuAsZ-DntMvl0khto6wFWh7OmFilAiCw/s1600-h/IMG_1254.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfagUcICdlsNCs5GVEHL00hWhVNO51MPPe6MqSMENPFEIO45_cLZg7WgphELfqvyPKY6AOoBl9kbRthTwccWQq4QxxnpGa5HAhDEa5XQLkoiuAsZ-DntMvl0khto6wFWh7OmFilAiCw/s320/IMG_1254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360803054074411250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmhjTagzhFVsV034NqWKkZg_mURxj1iXLFlGGJ3MvlHEstJmcsMJK0QEjL9itQAuqPJEoVTQbOQdgMDBNlAuZn1NDvtH9l9t-kuxC2u9x3wDJew5iPie9BbNG287Fg2j_oi266h4cQw/s1600-h/IMG_1246.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmhjTagzhFVsV034NqWKkZg_mURxj1iXLFlGGJ3MvlHEstJmcsMJK0QEjL9itQAuqPJEoVTQbOQdgMDBNlAuZn1NDvtH9l9t-kuxC2u9x3wDJew5iPie9BbNG287Fg2j_oi266h4cQw/s320/IMG_1246.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360802897040028546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6UoyPDx5fdVRQn3K-han7-2ee7Rt0hNyUi2LIR_RkM_HJ4seixDTba-2kc2eTRUhBLa224xskH1Kevs214EZk5tg11qcBzx2bT_81h76VismK4Dio3FdHVX2zm2vgSTx8w_J1krkIg/s1600-h/IMG_1215.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6UoyPDx5fdVRQn3K-han7-2ee7Rt0hNyUi2LIR_RkM_HJ4seixDTba-2kc2eTRUhBLa224xskH1Kevs214EZk5tg11qcBzx2bT_81h76VismK4Dio3FdHVX2zm2vgSTx8w_J1krkIg/s320/IMG_1215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360802657692757634" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZ-MVSoOiZQLvNmuqP9J00UJEDUZK96JqqwHl4X_QtgPCQE_02HRI9PwnaOFXiNKy34zDb1eg4rVmKmlUQV0TMW6p50SQuVHupDdP2oBOJodDkgGYHj_iNd4S5MhdIIDSHfpSnozILw/s1600-h/IMG_1072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZ-MVSoOiZQLvNmuqP9J00UJEDUZK96JqqwHl4X_QtgPCQE_02HRI9PwnaOFXiNKy34zDb1eg4rVmKmlUQV0TMW6p50SQuVHupDdP2oBOJodDkgGYHj_iNd4S5MhdIIDSHfpSnozILw/s320/IMG_1072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360802299838961474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiG0LF13E14FWd37uMAsO5TWtVrf9XXu0io5ehVy-_i_g5DLOfYP5bMMjf_eXd9OOoQKSQvjVeCIJgNuSb0MXHmUvLfyOgdoYCwbmoiFY5uX4IlkeT4AA0oKiKd96nVgJkQL0aLPTlg/s1600-h/IMG_0981.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiG0LF13E14FWd37uMAsO5TWtVrf9XXu0io5ehVy-_i_g5DLOfYP5bMMjf_eXd9OOoQKSQvjVeCIJgNuSb0MXHmUvLfyOgdoYCwbmoiFY5uX4IlkeT4AA0oKiKd96nVgJkQL0aLPTlg/s320/IMG_0981.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360801806232509042" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKu0Vdqej0iDnMLX52nE6VUgPzlFD0OqhCd0m4S0es9odRQ5aV0ygWR7b_50CfL75ZAHVU9U5kxtmmxAnel8P9zUDLbEYjyOfj8kgFTkjlIYFJMbjAR1dypmXNGsdjxW5Ca1IFog19BQ/s1600-h/IMG_0952.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKu0Vdqej0iDnMLX52nE6VUgPzlFD0OqhCd0m4S0es9odRQ5aV0ygWR7b_50CfL75ZAHVU9U5kxtmmxAnel8P9zUDLbEYjyOfj8kgFTkjlIYFJMbjAR1dypmXNGsdjxW5Ca1IFog19BQ/s320/IMG_0952.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360801513335745218" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-f_yUnzpckGAnU4ksWMvKSY_nI1iJ8qa1KSydweSXnxUZOvReV0Ll5Cu4QG7SAvbehXz7BYmZcfY1HZzlDyM7iyRkhoz-KQy2VsVaeGfUbDsd3bFcPOzupaC2LIB4NdMWWPk8qCBxQ/s1600-h/IMG_0971.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-f_yUnzpckGAnU4ksWMvKSY_nI1iJ8qa1KSydweSXnxUZOvReV0Ll5Cu4QG7SAvbehXz7BYmZcfY1HZzlDyM7iyRkhoz-KQy2VsVaeGfUbDsd3bFcPOzupaC2LIB4NdMWWPk8qCBxQ/s320/IMG_0971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360801358959304210" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pirates and Port Whores: Annual Boat Race</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LpSUwxorQjXVlh0UuyB5pvP_42XKPe0KcMFu8Bt-vxVypaItksvYN-lEylg-ptkuB4gnngWiji_olw7rfiyZZEU-UhOLyk028o5W1ssoTip0xWAYMNdyJpZ0HJt9pZECRSkCgUvi-A/s1600-h/IMG_0900.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LpSUwxorQjXVlh0UuyB5pvP_42XKPe0KcMFu8Bt-vxVypaItksvYN-lEylg-ptkuB4gnngWiji_olw7rfiyZZEU-UhOLyk028o5W1ssoTip0xWAYMNdyJpZ0HJt9pZECRSkCgUvi-A/s320/IMG_0900.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360798061984360370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJO03zF48tj0pw4RrHKVdxD8zvvM9AFluk1B_TrkWqQPf8iJBx88xwUsTVsZwdip6uCEEGAyVR2tbaUnb7vw00h_atddMYDs-8tx1iJP8fGWPrXfKIS2YT6t_dSiI_FLpvnK7DzLSQQ/s1600-h/IMG_0899.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJO03zF48tj0pw4RrHKVdxD8zvvM9AFluk1B_TrkWqQPf8iJBx88xwUsTVsZwdip6uCEEGAyVR2tbaUnb7vw00h_atddMYDs-8tx1iJP8fGWPrXfKIS2YT6t_dSiI_FLpvnK7DzLSQQ/s320/IMG_0899.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360800255357101266" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIJGIbi0QoNscI28rL7GoEZJIPw8cuchZJFPzSS-_ACtDfOxBAudwcCWolVOGp9u9LRVeq8MZLP-fuODYQUO0m8tSpl2YpO2PdVtK9Hmxxe1NJW1BGB5dr9Dg3WdqtElj-O7bLuDk3w/s1600-h/IMG_0891.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIJGIbi0QoNscI28rL7GoEZJIPw8cuchZJFPzSS-_ACtDfOxBAudwcCWolVOGp9u9LRVeq8MZLP-fuODYQUO0m8tSpl2YpO2PdVtK9Hmxxe1NJW1BGB5dr9Dg3WdqtElj-O7bLuDk3w/s320/IMG_0891.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360798247920743010" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMqVx2S_vTK9sA2YaiJiiK4__xU0mcFNIajIiP9XhrIhZkH80kSMgCs0ZsFz_4w9fXTmBDNad6lobf0J_mLSWL4Koe-87j57dzIEWR-dAWVTuNQkwpe_n9NzyKM1AOp2zs72hHboMvw/s1600-h/IMG_0881.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMqVx2S_vTK9sA2YaiJiiK4__xU0mcFNIajIiP9XhrIhZkH80kSMgCs0ZsFz_4w9fXTmBDNad6lobf0J_mLSWL4Koe-87j57dzIEWR-dAWVTuNQkwpe_n9NzyKM1AOp2zs72hHboMvw/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360797854542776994" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span>Max's Going Away Party</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD8qTF0moonlaSdzMlPzF7mBn-GBjR-VfIMMpbHzoWLTUgFbQXOnefVzCXBgFNZD8ozwFcjtZuB3bK3UrPmirhQvaisxMm9ooWC8jp1cxNg5u3eBFC_ZpuIxqpmZsdKtH3gUlYEGhfA/s1600-h/IMG_0785.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD8qTF0moonlaSdzMlPzF7mBn-GBjR-VfIMMpbHzoWLTUgFbQXOnefVzCXBgFNZD8ozwFcjtZuB3bK3UrPmirhQvaisxMm9ooWC8jp1cxNg5u3eBFC_ZpuIxqpmZsdKtH3gUlYEGhfA/s320/IMG_0785.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358729457881156354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhG8fbFiu4gfwnYugrOD9IflWnwWjQuvTUqAn-hflz3yIJXUraWaqjef9Eo8Rbuh_dFHGBycKh3MSdzMgsPok8NPhXR3-97kRyGyWE6O_JMsxRIyvcYQaLqpkVzjGdNWmeJR-XIDfKQ/s1600-h/IMG_0875.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhG8fbFiu4gfwnYugrOD9IflWnwWjQuvTUqAn-hflz3yIJXUraWaqjef9Eo8Rbuh_dFHGBycKh3MSdzMgsPok8NPhXR3-97kRyGyWE6O_JMsxRIyvcYQaLqpkVzjGdNWmeJR-XIDfKQ/s320/IMG_0875.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360800733920337282" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbNApFjnCST7ZDuxC1ggcbr4YLlAzgrg0h4ZzJEX01iEXBFGZDMJfBHykskM9xLKgbw6586Qggd0LldynXhjajPhauIGQKbUnduB730AvdZc39cgWVzMawPrjeJgt9rXBaa6-CV_20g/s1600-h/IMG_0735.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbNApFjnCST7ZDuxC1ggcbr4YLlAzgrg0h4ZzJEX01iEXBFGZDMJfBHykskM9xLKgbw6586Qggd0LldynXhjajPhauIGQKbUnduB730AvdZc39cgWVzMawPrjeJgt9rXBaa6-CV_20g/s320/IMG_0735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360800035765233554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FERPqdXPSf1u7aN1-nRnlVFJmVPjwQrzEb8OpmJ70vniO8dY4aDSBFIfAtg9yZ-AWGunXmavD9SP6O8WL4HdbbHBtbw9qeKGNOdutqMOhoaQzSqJWtYc4fZLnx3nqosZp-MK-oZI2g/s1600-h/IMG_0734.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FERPqdXPSf1u7aN1-nRnlVFJmVPjwQrzEb8OpmJ70vniO8dY4aDSBFIfAtg9yZ-AWGunXmavD9SP6O8WL4HdbbHBtbw9qeKGNOdutqMOhoaQzSqJWtYc4fZLnx3nqosZp-MK-oZI2g/s320/IMG_0734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358727179453679314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /></span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-21695223445671498352009-06-16T23:06:00.013-05:002009-08-11T10:44:33.584-05:00I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9Y8YCyomif7oiKV1MIXbuiPCJ5lo0pTzTC_Vio955lhWd3Idh9t2RI14c4abpiN4WR_smnu6WJyQcWGWK4hv1i9XEgtQnRftQTtHLE_1rgzq9DspMeK-4yGnet2UDnys4rM03jW1dA/s1600-h/IMG_0657.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9Y8YCyomif7oiKV1MIXbuiPCJ5lo0pTzTC_Vio955lhWd3Idh9t2RI14c4abpiN4WR_smnu6WJyQcWGWK4hv1i9XEgtQnRftQTtHLE_1rgzq9DspMeK-4yGnet2UDnys4rM03jW1dA/s320/IMG_0657.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348148899585031826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIPDCTRSJ7IMPeUiYCHcxXX36XuDlIc-tZLkuJAa_37fGqm8nni8ytnwfUJX2-oEsXmr3zc4LuhM2ZjP97vc_fnPNwEvSNNtzqrE8mRatuxINeQ97GUONYk1oWZPAqst-isQtHaMRuQ/s1600-h/IMG_0456.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIPDCTRSJ7IMPeUiYCHcxXX36XuDlIc-tZLkuJAa_37fGqm8nni8ytnwfUJX2-oEsXmr3zc4LuhM2ZjP97vc_fnPNwEvSNNtzqrE8mRatuxINeQ97GUONYk1oWZPAqst-isQtHaMRuQ/s320/IMG_0456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348148701759726066" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GbHM6PPlC8BMDTWfF4PIt4BUnZo9g7IRDhJuZ9wJVIYKOHjnNgIyPifyjz60C2evwx-vCSi9kVcuA2iwM2J4Bs8DMz4YJ_e10PZDlZ34BJ0n5A74-ds4xK0PJU9hcM6WN9Pc0ztBcw/s1600-h/IMG_0650.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GbHM6PPlC8BMDTWfF4PIt4BUnZo9g7IRDhJuZ9wJVIYKOHjnNgIyPifyjz60C2evwx-vCSi9kVcuA2iwM2J4Bs8DMz4YJ_e10PZDlZ34BJ0n5A74-ds4xK0PJU9hcM6WN9Pc0ztBcw/s320/IMG_0650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348147935158190290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytTe6BW9XVoex16MB48P9VCdhO1gyOCNr9zcqxwrr4LI1mXCoFW7d3edvuA7YIF4Rm_8FzrfJQ7E5WYLk9OL23zC_4PQXyfo6MHaTVi_oFl4n7B63hQYxIxGsiUrfU-EC_dmPUJqHdg/s1600-h/IMG_0397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytTe6BW9XVoex16MB48P9VCdhO1gyOCNr9zcqxwrr4LI1mXCoFW7d3edvuA7YIF4Rm_8FzrfJQ7E5WYLk9OL23zC_4PQXyfo6MHaTVi_oFl4n7B63hQYxIxGsiUrfU-EC_dmPUJqHdg/s320/IMG_0397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348147342841675714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsT_gSOeQxPLSvymAxCS9Mqb85WW3gFCKeIyXD1TGb2gmuRWr6KFGFN-DhyxjwlJ0Unjsj44LF5OGsvKp1fX1yfDr5bGiP3RGw9L-gvL-_d2CNElxfFOUBiQMK_NflPjwUzigGK4dtg/s1600-h/IMG_0620.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsT_gSOeQxPLSvymAxCS9Mqb85WW3gFCKeIyXD1TGb2gmuRWr6KFGFN-DhyxjwlJ0Unjsj44LF5OGsvKp1fX1yfDr5bGiP3RGw9L-gvL-_d2CNElxfFOUBiQMK_NflPjwUzigGK4dtg/s320/IMG_0620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348147062848682962" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymRNCX1zQpUL_kJongYnZZTzFqGDVsR7jIHAnjoAvptWPB4Hgy_3C2gnXhXxHz64WlP0nrPs-yzI_vHWzrKt_jyYgd54e8PwdxnBv9zPGDG32oSNULGJ4VXNT8AlDX6TZlKl7V_Wrjg/s1600-h/IMG_0615.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymRNCX1zQpUL_kJongYnZZTzFqGDVsR7jIHAnjoAvptWPB4Hgy_3C2gnXhXxHz64WlP0nrPs-yzI_vHWzrKt_jyYgd54e8PwdxnBv9zPGDG32oSNULGJ4VXNT8AlDX6TZlKl7V_Wrjg/s320/IMG_0615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348146714693059458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgR0HxTn6m8MsUwyhk28CtuYyhyUJ1_ApxFmDN1S0RcucdKZyXhR5sSiLMoaZU6_n61V_DchkRxkYVQVHILI8fcuFZet6ZSzc2mott0u5MGB8RezbS-b21kGMaPJNyExW5hxQ8jrpvg/s1600-h/IMG_0273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgR0HxTn6m8MsUwyhk28CtuYyhyUJ1_ApxFmDN1S0RcucdKZyXhR5sSiLMoaZU6_n61V_DchkRxkYVQVHILI8fcuFZet6ZSzc2mott0u5MGB8RezbS-b21kGMaPJNyExW5hxQ8jrpvg/s320/IMG_0273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348146159632189122" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecLhF1rOVp00TLqjsXoKEI0RNhkG09ubMSQeg3FNu768pw6IoNj7tDnstvisrRTDceQ51AXK8qxNcPSjBQvafDP2MB2Eahqg6e3mWVwvEd-jgdj1s0S6_OMInBELcPdPih6j9ZKLf1Q/s1600-h/IMG_0237.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecLhF1rOVp00TLqjsXoKEI0RNhkG09ubMSQeg3FNu768pw6IoNj7tDnstvisrRTDceQ51AXK8qxNcPSjBQvafDP2MB2Eahqg6e3mWVwvEd-jgdj1s0S6_OMInBELcPdPih6j9ZKLf1Q/s320/IMG_0237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348145715110284066" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lWupOCCpSdp9sIS5VIdTFlCNULBf9JJvmt5YY4t6qzJiIyRNTT1OFn-pZPIpFSD8fR_gQXw6LCZtH3VCJdMktAUdS-MqFBWToudv-kOZ-Puj67DLb2J0X66dxHSK2Hov7CD8npfKrA/s1600-h/IMG_0200.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lWupOCCpSdp9sIS5VIdTFlCNULBf9JJvmt5YY4t6qzJiIyRNTT1OFn-pZPIpFSD8fR_gQXw6LCZtH3VCJdMktAUdS-MqFBWToudv-kOZ-Puj67DLb2J0X66dxHSK2Hov7CD8npfKrA/s320/IMG_0200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348144998806649426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUyx429C3z8HtSZ4MzijO7hIfIQ_TsCgbv-NhzkGCrdjxue_94yeiCOUIBC1ObnZ5Nu4LCGoywIP_8-N5GATqxUtBibgmgsOrpeRd9RO3W_3QEGtfLVGkzySl8ii4IaUia49lR2RN8w/s1600-h/IMG_0655.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUyx429C3z8HtSZ4MzijO7hIfIQ_TsCgbv-NhzkGCrdjxue_94yeiCOUIBC1ObnZ5Nu4LCGoywIP_8-N5GATqxUtBibgmgsOrpeRd9RO3W_3QEGtfLVGkzySl8ii4IaUia49lR2RN8w/s320/IMG_0655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348144459708049170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbml2lsHrEdkMXw-8pYOahFkt933yk-fsC8wZonyP6ttmsO88I64Pfc_DvzyJSnOzcpXuhjhzLR25GQUmqCNlBA0OXEAns5mudrYimOknVygzLYOzLzJ5GJWrPK0kLzkfVz5-qpL-C2Q/s1600-h/IMG_0638.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbml2lsHrEdkMXw-8pYOahFkt933yk-fsC8wZonyP6ttmsO88I64Pfc_DvzyJSnOzcpXuhjhzLR25GQUmqCNlBA0OXEAns5mudrYimOknVygzLYOzLzJ5GJWrPK0kLzkfVz5-qpL-C2Q/s320/IMG_0638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348143503562775618" border="0" /></a>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-22527543827607627162009-06-14T14:21:00.006-05:002009-08-11T10:42:07.231-05:00Make up your mind slowly; Think on your feet<span style="font-family:times new roman;">I'm sorry for being a terrible,</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> terrible blogger. I never claimed that I would adhere to any schedule, though, so I don't feel too terrible.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Major changes have taken place since my last update. I have house full of completely different people- wonderful people. My roommate is Kelsey from Florida, and she is awesome. We both clean together, and last night I cooked her a delicious dinner. (It actually was delicious- honey and lemon chicken with broccoli, shells, and Alfredo sauce. Mmmmm) She's laid back, and oh-so-easy to live with. I also live with three other boys.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">One is Stephan, the unlucky one. He turned 21 right before moving here, and mistakenly got stuck in the underage house. Even though he is 21, he's not allowed to drink in the house because underage people live here. He's really neat though- I swear there is not one thing he doesn't do. He's a massage therapist, is going to study marine biology, is scuba certified, runs the challenge course, and is half French. What girl can say no to that combination? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">There's also William, who lives like a King across the hall from me. He's a really sweet lad from Chapel Hill, although he's spent the past 6 years or so going to school in Virginia. He is definitely quite the character. He talks really slow, and has a lovely drawl. He can making anything out of anything. Right now he's crocheting plastic bags into a reusable shopping bag. He wears tall socks, and currently has two turtles living in his room. He claims that he is going to kill them and make turtle jerky with my housemate Chance, who you will soon learn about, but I doubt it. We're not allowed to have pets on the ranch, so he says they are "livestock." One of them broke into my cabinet and ate some food (or at least that's the story I prefer) and they currently are either in his closet or under his bed. Turtles aside, he's a great guy. He's extremely laid back, and is great to just stand out on the front porch with. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Last, but certainly not least, is Chance. I had heard tons of stories about Chance during Spring, and was a little weary when I learned that I would be living with him. He got dropped off by his father and had a military-style pack and a cigarette behind his ear, and another hanging out of the corner of his mouth. This frightened me more than the stories did, as I thought they might be true. But I soon found out that Chance is great. He has a THICK Arkansan accent, and despite his small frame has a very large presence. He's wiry and seems to never stop- but when he does, he crashes hard. The first day he was here he completely rearranged his room (which he shares with Stephan) so that his head was in the closet. He claimed that he couldn't sleep in the same room as someone else: he would spend the entire night awake staring at the other person defensively. Soon he realize that his arrangement would just not do, and called for a house meeting. I was a little weary, since previous house meetings had brought up ideas such as Naked Thursday, but this one turned out to be harmless. He simply wanted permission from our house to move into the storage shed in the back yard. So yes, now Chance lives in the shed. He's kind of like our friendly neighbor now, and there are far fewer awkward instances where he forgets to put on pants to head to the kitchen (I did mention he brought up the idea of naked Thursdays, yes? He seems to be a bit of an exhibitionist.) I could write volumes about this chap, though. He has a really kind heart and the can-do attitude that I would expect of an Arkansas gentleman. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Really, I think I hit the jackpot with my living arrangement this season. We're an interesting dynamic, and seem to get along. We all pile onto a love seat and chit chat sometimes. There's nothing like cuddling and conversation.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Besides that, not a whole lot has changed except for the weather. While there are monsoons up north, the thermometer reaches above ninety here. Monday there was a heat index of 104- and it's not even July! Gah! I know that it will just continue to get more hot and more humid, so I should stop complaining, but man. 104! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I did have my first friend visit a few weeks ago, though. My friend Jared whom I vaguely knew from UMKC decided to spend part of his vacation here on the ranch. He brought his friend Mike and we enjoyed all that the Natural State has to offer. It was really one of the best weekends I've had since coming here, and I was really thankful that he came to visit. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">This past weekend was quite eventful, too, but for different reasons. A severe electrical storm ripped through the area Friday afternoon, and our electricity went out. At first we thought "no big deal, it will be back on soon." But no, it was a big deal. It wasn't until Sunday evening that our power went back on. It was interesting to see how people reacted to the lack of electricity. On the ranch we pride ourselves of being one with the land, and doing with the excess. Yet when people were without their a/c, refrigerators, and computers blood came out. I've begun to develop a strange relationship with technology lately, and that incident seemed to strengthen my confusion. I love, love, love technology for all that it does, but am beginning to realize that although it does keep old friends in touch across the distances, it creates such a divide with the ones who are right here. In fact, William is sitting on the couch across from me right now, and we haven't even spoken. I'm too busy typing away here, off in another world. He's curled up, pondering whatever thoughts he has in that wonderful brain of his, and I'm staring into a screen. At least I'm providing a good playlist to his thoughts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I have exciting news about my future endeavors. I have signed a lease, and will be living in Harlem come August. Not only do I have a signed lease, but I also have a one way ticket to New York, New York. You have no idea how lovely that feels to say. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I was talking to a very, very dear friend last weekend about the upcoming transition. I've been feeling slightly detached from my current situation. I feel as if my time here is winding down quickly, and I'm trying to prepare myself for my new life. I realize that this is a terrible practice, as I'm not fully appreciating the beauty that is surrounding me. But I also know that I need to start preparing myself or else the change will be completely overwhelming at first. I'm going to visit my friend John in New Jersey over the fourth of July, and was saying how I'm glad I get to head to the East Coast once before making the move. He came to the conclusion that, much like you would an egg, I am tempering myself. I think that it was this entire ranch experience has been- The move from Rolla to NYC would probably have been harder. Here I've been able to be independent in a very supportive community. I've been able to figure out what matters most to me at the moment, and have set forth some goals to strive towards. If I reach them is an entirely different matter, but at least I have them now. The Ranch was serving its original fucntion: much like with the animals, it was a holding place for me; I received immunizations to doubts and anxieties and was quarantined from the naysayers as I prepared for my journey afar. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Speaking of goals, I completed the ACT test last weekend. Having not been in a classroom since September, it was pretty difficult to sit through a five hour test. I feel like I did well, and hopefully the scores reflect that. They are pretty crucial to the goals I have. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">There is so much more to be told. I've caught a snake, experimented with food, fixed a toilet, killed a rabbit, organized political forums, married off a brother, put together a boat team, and cut down on my Mountain Dew consumption. Really, I've been fairly busy. So please do not think I've neglected you, I haven't. I've just been out making memories. I now suggest you do the same. </span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-13079070492973077582009-04-29T22:40:00.003-05:002009-08-11T10:42:07.232-05:00100 Days<blockquote>"Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America- they will be met. On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord."<br />- Barack Obama, 1/20/09</blockquote>It seems like all I've heard about for the past month is "Obama's First 100 Days." Everyone wants to know how he measures up to other presidents and what he's accomplished. Most evaluation periods are long enough that I pay no mind to them, but this one hits a little close to home. Not only do I feel invested in the Obama administration, but the time since Barack has taken office is extremely relevant to my life.<br /><br />In 100 days I've moved away from home. I've changed occupations. I've made new friends (while burning a few bridges.) I've acquired new music (yes, it really is that important) and learned how to <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> cook. I've lost a cat. :( I've started making a viable plan for my future. In the past 100 days I've attended church on my own accord, participated in a Seder, and taken a road trip (or two . . . cough.) I've met some of the most influential people in the nation, learned how to milk a goat, and have grown a few shades darker. In the past 100 days I have gone from an unsure, sad girl to a (fairly) confident, happy young lady. The first month was more of the same- shame, lies, monotony. Then came the big move- excitement, uncertainty, knowledge. And now there's, well, now. A friend of mine said something very wise tonight: "The ones who plan for the moments down the road are ultimately the ones who control the moments we're in." This was said in a political context, but I feel that it suits my situation. I have hope for the future, so I have hope for<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">now.</span> I think I'll be happy next year, so I'm happy <span style="font-weight: bold;">now.</span> I've grown to look at everything as an opportunity or an experience. Need to shovel poop? It's exercise! Unruly group? Simply practice for meetings in the future! My cynical side is still very much alive, but the Optimist in me is starting to shine. Right now I truly feel like the world is at my disposal. I may not have the most money, the most friends, the hottest body, or the brightest mind but I have a big smile and a little thing called hope. Although that may not be enough, it's a damn good start.<br /><br /><blockquote>"So I think we're off to a good start, but it's just a start. I'm proud of what we've achieved, but I'm not content. I'm pleased with our progress, but I'm not satisfied." -Barack Obama, 4/29/09<br /></blockquote>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-71123228919985563642009-04-22T19:05:00.003-05:002009-08-11T10:42:07.232-05:00<span style="font-family: times new roman;">It seems like I always do this- wait too long to update, so I'm stuck writing entries that are far too long to keep you interested. I will try my hardest, though. </span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> As far as the ranch goes, all is well. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and the pollen is yellow and oh-so-thick. I've hosted two groups in GV2 since I last updated: a group from the University of San Fransisco, and a youth group from Louisiana. The entire staff was a little worried about how the high schoolers would handle the program. Opinions vary, but I think they did really well and got a lot from the program. They were not the type of group that we were used to- younger, less experienced- so some felt like we weren't as successful this time around. They may not go out and end hunger and poverty, but they are definitely far more aware than they were when they came. That, to me, is success. </span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> My days of milking goats at 7 am are gone for awhile: due to some road construction, we had to move all of the animals out of the village. Unfortunately, we didn't do this until we realized there was no water in the village. we didn't move the pigs (thankfully) so we have to haul in water twice a day from them. Joy! It seems that as much good that is done on this ranch, very little communicating happens. </span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> Since there is a lull in programming, I have been working on field trips. It's less intensive than my program, but it is just as rewarding. Hearing some of the kids go from answers such as "I drink two percent" to seeing their reactions when we squirt milk from a goat is really rewarding. It's also encouraging to see how smart some of these youngsters are- I had a great group of first graders today that were sharp as a tack. </span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> As i mentioned in a previous post, I am lucky enough to be able to attend several lectures at the Clinton School for Public Service in Little Rock. My first lecture, with Dr. Joseph Nye, was great. I think I will summarize these lectures in a separate post. I met a lot of very nice, interesting people, and made several nice connections. One connection, the owner of an architectural firm, made contact to the President of Heifer, Jo Luck, for me. She then wrote me an e-mail and invited me to make an appointment to visit with her at headquarters this summer. I thought that was just the neatest, and hope that I get to follow through. I was also able to see Will Pearson, the founder of Metal_Floss, a great magazine (and website!) and Michael Dukakis, the infamous 1988 presidential candidate. (He would have to be, as I know him and I wasn't even a imagined then.) </span><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">I do have some sad news. As the season winds down, people continue to come and go. My "house parents" (as we call them) Al and Mary Ann are moving back to Kansas this weekend. I will (hopefully) be able to visit my friend Ruben in OKC this weekend, so I will have to say my goodbyes early. It will be interesting to see who ends up in Nearside this summer. All of my housemates are leaving, so I will be receiving a house full of fresh faces. I'm excited to meet all of the summer staff, though. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">I may have taken some Tylenol PM, and I still have a bed to make. This wasn't nearly as long or detailed as I would have liked, but you can only work with what you've got. I'm not feeling especially inspired today, so maybe tomorrow I will add more and add the notes/summary of the Nye and Dukakis lectures. I love you all, and hope that this finds you well.</span> Pictures will follow soon.Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-59627089024341123192009-03-30T00:14:00.012-05:002009-08-11T10:44:15.489-05:00Pictures, Pictures, Pictures.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVNOCzdKK35A1U-KpNJ8VpQIUrCxXBQcqGv5R1THznlaMtk9uny6des2cXqThQiFm2bvSGeNSXcA0SvV263Gy-JAILeUUTQ3woiihuK4fNesC7PtOmQ8Cjmz_AH_jPB5REomMg_c8ZQ/s1600-h/IMG_9619.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVNOCzdKK35A1U-KpNJ8VpQIUrCxXBQcqGv5R1THznlaMtk9uny6des2cXqThQiFm2bvSGeNSXcA0SvV263Gy-JAILeUUTQ3woiihuK4fNesC7PtOmQ8Cjmz_AH_jPB5REomMg_c8ZQ/s320/IMG_9619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318852541580425346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGnjcUBnW4sdBK39EQ_F57FHBBxpteGElW5reuBecAFHDxXsJY4d6wyCMjFqgoM-a6iUs8aU40qs7vsrLdWBWW-io0zbANFrGEgj-lTpFn1SVGUtBeys_iL_aAK7-5blSUNPorJURIQ/s1600-h/IMG_9551.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGnjcUBnW4sdBK39EQ_F57FHBBxpteGElW5reuBecAFHDxXsJY4d6wyCMjFqgoM-a6iUs8aU40qs7vsrLdWBWW-io0zbANFrGEgj-lTpFn1SVGUtBeys_iL_aAK7-5blSUNPorJURIQ/s320/IMG_9551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318851685625446354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6J1tKSaIFt_8kOHAoegtFyOiTy7_MqsbLqF4-4aMC82PmZu-XoBX9d8hXSjN7I2edo5KVaStcz6LxLCIAxMTqRqITeXy3HQxxDBrW5_Xm7mycxwkbiXdWEX8DgaD7Kb-cSy6yRolmtw/s1600-h/IMG_9522.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6J1tKSaIFt_8kOHAoegtFyOiTy7_MqsbLqF4-4aMC82PmZu-XoBX9d8hXSjN7I2edo5KVaStcz6LxLCIAxMTqRqITeXy3HQxxDBrW5_Xm7mycxwkbiXdWEX8DgaD7Kb-cSy6yRolmtw/s320/IMG_9522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318850925986815746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC9uarmk_ZKrxOAEp0jhUbb0F2bsaSvAbjAugt6_OuFsq-ZfjpnhnmqhhmQlOuqmC6tG0B85bT8XhqwQpBt9L_m9-Cqr7Cp8eEcFcrqcvYenJBXo6lqLD3tFGs0N0_QfW66WA666Atw/s1600-h/IMG_9595.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC9uarmk_ZKrxOAEp0jhUbb0F2bsaSvAbjAugt6_OuFsq-ZfjpnhnmqhhmQlOuqmC6tG0B85bT8XhqwQpBt9L_m9-Cqr7Cp8eEcFcrqcvYenJBXo6lqLD3tFGs0N0_QfW66WA666Atw/s320/IMG_9595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318849634692073474" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1IMhZz1jAja05zvAvH9OXrEBzsqNLK0DX0kcjr4rWY3NH6Ci0NNCRTsyvH7WXUW2pDjpQwrxyNHcN47GViXIy5qhGjD0EYKNr8mJ7VkqzSFOkM7zvZXvl_7R_QqvNaSO5ud4ieayzQ/s1600-h/IMG_9490.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1IMhZz1jAja05zvAvH9OXrEBzsqNLK0DX0kcjr4rWY3NH6Ci0NNCRTsyvH7WXUW2pDjpQwrxyNHcN47GViXIy5qhGjD0EYKNr8mJ7VkqzSFOkM7zvZXvl_7R_QqvNaSO5ud4ieayzQ/s320/IMG_9490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318849206333111698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Sheep Overtook the Front Yard and Used my Car for a Back Rub.</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPOkPa5nvBkAGKDmY8tEWoPz7TGj5SoJergz2rXe6Nw26r7vnBSZa1QlBNo7aRRk0CWUTm-TDgngkuaYeFiU6IKVoZPAgujvPzVDtda62KtUTCLbQxr0Yw4NToCO1cS01hu6a5nTjhQ/s1600-h/IMG_9479.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPOkPa5nvBkAGKDmY8tEWoPz7TGj5SoJergz2rXe6Nw26r7vnBSZa1QlBNo7aRRk0CWUTm-TDgngkuaYeFiU6IKVoZPAgujvPzVDtda62KtUTCLbQxr0Yw4NToCO1cS01hu6a5nTjhQ/s320/IMG_9479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318848432133825714" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i9CJp8bLjCNxpeihXWWYlG3dedTKpOxmXPfaMkTaI7xafpWf7MSg1YjZoThPJAzBzTfwB2xOI26l-YUq_kFgzoA26U-wvw6nYzkvwVCw37G0pgPF_9bVF21NlrST4GEevDp1ZrdUGQ/s1600-h/IMG_9443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i9CJp8bLjCNxpeihXWWYlG3dedTKpOxmXPfaMkTaI7xafpWf7MSg1YjZoThPJAzBzTfwB2xOI26l-YUq_kFgzoA26U-wvw6nYzkvwVCw37G0pgPF_9bVF21NlrST4GEevDp1ZrdUGQ/s320/IMG_9443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318847924707142946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Mallow the Rabbit</span></span> </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy87dadYV5hftIKOeKT_A4CqKqHF9C4Jej_HCcUTIpbvRTzjdaTznoueN6_DzbY-dOpy4ghr4tFRBi93YbHeenICM1lyl3vJ7srsuspcMkUT22YfX8o9C8wgQxPHN1Ot6-3RO6cS3EA/s1600-h/IMG_9440.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy87dadYV5hftIKOeKT_A4CqKqHF9C4Jej_HCcUTIpbvRTzjdaTznoueN6_DzbY-dOpy4ghr4tFRBi93YbHeenICM1lyl3vJ7srsuspcMkUT22YfX8o9C8wgQxPHN1Ot6-3RO6cS3EA/s320/IMG_9440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318847470928696770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYXuS59hTuIWrUSXuDZMk8mg-1Cx30Mz0oHArZFdmrV17NDfiGiKlc2KjVC2kamFH2vTjf0_jGsj2vapYKqvjq0cLRRcKsgJT_KSz-qy1OkK6DO3mXi5o3euCyoxRi9wUqP201wQdvw/s1600-h/IMG_9383.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYXuS59hTuIWrUSXuDZMk8mg-1Cx30Mz0oHArZFdmrV17NDfiGiKlc2KjVC2kamFH2vTjf0_jGsj2vapYKqvjq0cLRRcKsgJT_KSz-qy1OkK6DO3mXi5o3euCyoxRi9wUqP201wQdvw/s320/IMG_9383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318847173658682818" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBm7GDutNc2La5QlekY791UIyFYG8bM0ZmNYZwqrcUyDsD4hbGhQqeyeSl6tMPtRJmQ2mCMu2Tsy31YXzZEYk-gYp9a2oX62IegQRje9mki8feZRdHLerC6_JMLcKEtjlT_5Hbzk4gg/s1600-h/IMG_9373.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBm7GDutNc2La5QlekY791UIyFYG8bM0ZmNYZwqrcUyDsD4hbGhQqeyeSl6tMPtRJmQ2mCMu2Tsy31YXzZEYk-gYp9a2oX62IegQRje9mki8feZRdHLerC6_JMLcKEtjlT_5Hbzk4gg/s320/IMG_9373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318846469234513746" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:courier new;">Holocaust Survivor Talk in Morrilton</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVusFlH81i1h5CLETSuVbSfCQ2BHQUQXfTpyHr0QQxaA5CO0s5cF-hLaAv2W-zKKzpQvqYinBXeAdAlfY8bgCaPv_zBhjs4NGAUwxlBLfUEzWWkGJG8X6Yau9jjiu7AgsEAAJkMrWZg/s1600-h/IMG_9349.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVusFlH81i1h5CLETSuVbSfCQ2BHQUQXfTpyHr0QQxaA5CO0s5cF-hLaAv2W-zKKzpQvqYinBXeAdAlfY8bgCaPv_zBhjs4NGAUwxlBLfUEzWWkGJG8X6Yau9jjiu7AgsEAAJkMrWZg/s400/IMG_9349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318845644458287698" border="0" /></a>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-80010083535573215982009-03-29T23:40:00.010-05:002009-08-11T10:45:08.767-05:00I can now milk a goat.<span style="font-family:times new roman;">I know, I know: it’s been a long time. But you look just as good as ever, and I’m dying to fill you in on the past few weeks of my life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I was able to finally complete training, and</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> was assigned to the Tibet portion of </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">the Global Passport program. ( I love saying “I’m in charge of Tibet.” Althoug</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">h I’m not sure the PRC would be too happy about it.) I get to make Momos, scream “Hold the Dogs!” in Tibetan, and help construct electric fences. I know I’m still vague about the program, but it’s really nothing I can explain. We go over relief work, development work, and address the causes of hunger and poverty. You would simply have to come here and see everything to understand.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrwsIa49A7ZMZO9aMh0IOX5eLO3-wQlh0ALeu_yoGVvSl_cm5llWv_MjwBMvmHFyaoLw44cEpX3xM7HuXKMerE5alvYKpVBstSSlIWAItr7Ip7psXod-S1A-0zdOafu7tTVSU-mCuew/s1600-h/IMG_9437.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrwsIa49A7ZMZO9aMh0IOX5eLO3-wQlh0ALeu_yoGVvSl_cm5llWv_MjwBMvmHFyaoLw44cEpX3xM7HuXKMerE5alvYKpVBstSSlIWAItr7Ip7psXod-S1A-0zdOafu7tTVSU-mCuew/s320/IMG_9437.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318842291039395810" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Hopefully my first group did just that. I was uber n</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ervous, but they were fantastic- a group of college kids from the University of Wisconsin- Madison. Kids (even if most, okay all, were older than me) like them renew my faith in my generation. I know that all of us aren’t lost or ignorant, but it’s sometimes hard to remember that when looking around at my peers. (Or in the mirror.) </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />The biggest reason it has taken me so long to update was my visit home last weekend. Up to that point I was feeling amazing. I am surrounded by rive</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">rs, mountains, and fresh air. I’ve seen life come into this world daily. I’ve experienced the culture of the south, and have heard stories of heroes. Going home after my group, I thought I would take all of this with me. I wa</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">s surprising my mother for her birthday; we had planned a surprise “Donny and Marie Osmond” theme party for her. What could poss</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ibly go wrong? My grandmother spilled the beans when I was just hours from home. Three weeks of secrecy were out the window. But, okay, mom just won’t be as surprised now. She’ll still be happy to see me, and she still has no idea about her party. After visiting my family and resting up a bit, I decided to go out with my friends. That was the mistake. The experience made me think of one of my favorite quotes by Karen Kaiser Clark: "Life is change. Growth </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">is optional. Choose wisely." I knew that the relationship between my friends and I would eventually become strained. They’re in school, I’m not. Some of them still live with at home, I don’t. Up until a few months ago I had an entirely different philosophy on life, and we all shared that. No</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">w that I’ve been gone- away from Rolla, away from the parties, away from the grind- I’ve realized that everything has changed. As soon as I saw their faces, I felt all of the growt</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">h I’ve made in the past few months disappear. I was back to the weak, vulnerable, anxious girl I’ve always been, and I didn’t like it one bit. My stomach started acting up, something it hasn’t done since I’ve moved to Arkansas. And at that moment all I wanted to was to return to the Ranch. Home really is a relative term. I thought I would always think of 4L farms as my home, and in a way it is- my family is there, my mother’s cooking is there, my cows are there- but it’s just not the same. The sm</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ell has changed. The furniture is rearranged. I don’t recognize the nam</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">es brought up during dinner gossip. It’s just not the same. This is not to say that I didn’t enjoy some of my time there. It was great to see all of my family. It was great to see certain friends, the ones that I’ve recently acquired in this bizarre point of my life, and realize that not everything was lost. I was able</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> to cook a meal for my brother, his fiance, and a great friend from the campaign. I was able to eat PIE at a glorious local joint. But despite all of the g</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ood, the visit still left a bad taste in my mouth.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTUp9wxkPRlHa6vv1h-48FvkAqIjmLU7sDaibJRiwoDfz4i_j-b6wNv27ECLhTo83rgIk7QfQOp7YLCrhIV50bG_FIN737KOlkKWwnwqNitIlFPGdBKNyUHbgnUycOO61oQDWF5GxWw/s1600-h/IMG_9462.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTUp9wxkPRlHa6vv1h-48FvkAqIjmLU7sDaibJRiwoDfz4i_j-b6wNv27ECLhTo83rgIk7QfQOp7YLCrhIV50bG_FIN737KOlkKWwnwqNitIlFPGdBKNyUHbgnUycOO61oQDWF5GxWw/s320/IMG_9462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318841037081679154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">As a result, I was a funk all last week. I mostly kept to myself, </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">and utilized my favorite vice: reading. I didn’t sleep well, I didn’t eat well, I just wasn’t the same girl who hopped into the blue Ford Focus Thursday afternoon, headed North. So this weekend I decided to snap out of it. I spent all of yesterday in my pajamas. (I did break out jeans in the late night, to make an appearance at a dance party.) I read two books. I watched two movies. I napped a lot. It was just a very much needed day of thought, indulgence, and rest. Today I woke up and the sun was shining. I drove to Little Rock with my church companion, Neil, and we went to St. Michael’s. I talked to some good people, and then stuffed my face with delicious Indian food. Then when I got back on the ranch, I almost resolved to repeat yesterday- watch another movie, read another book. But the sixty-degree weather and ever-so-yellow sunshine changed my mind. I trekked down to the Ranch’s v</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">ersion of The Secret Garden: the Holly Grove. It’s this beautiful, secluded spot in the bottoms by the river. There’s an oxbow lake surrounded by Holly Trees. There are birds, bugs, and even a rotting water buffalo head. It’s just completely wonderful, completely peaceful, and it was exactly what I needed. I brought along a camera, a notebook, and a book. I ended up taking a few snapshots, but mostly I laid on top of a picnic table and soaked up the sun. I closed my eyes and listened to the birds and bugs around me. And then I did something I’ve only done a few times before: I said the Om mantra. I took in a deep breath, and with each exhale, I released a very natural, raw Om. I did this three times. And then I just was. With each exhale after that, I let myself sink into the table, the Earth. I got to the point where I felt so connected with my surroundings that I swear I could feel the movement of the </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Earth. And from that moment on, my funk has disappeared. My nose may be runny, my eyes may be watery, but I’m happier now than I have been all week. All of that growth I feared I had lost has been restored, and then some. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCr8W8FwuDmBuIOhSlaZRQZg807On06etfktT0o9H82sdUu7Mkm3AwT5WgB84Q3JetY8Iv88eN1TEUIxXgCT7xj1bYpdSLykybYdVtBdTYINRvQi3IIHwicvwCMm5cF081v2GPNCq5MA/s1600-h/IMG_9614.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCr8W8FwuDmBuIOhSlaZRQZg807On06etfktT0o9H82sdUu7Mkm3AwT5WgB84Q3JetY8Iv88eN1TEUIxXgCT7xj1bYpdSLykybYdVtBdTYINRvQi3IIHwicvwCMm5cF081v2GPNCq5MA/s400/IMG_9614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318843822858452034" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I know many will read this, namely my family, and think that this is a load of hippie bullshit. But I know that you love me enough to say “Oh, that’s nice. I’m glad you are happy.” or as most of you say when referring to my move to New York “Oh, that’s great. I know you really wanted that. It will be an interesting experience.” I can imagine that my life may seem a little bizarre, a little different to most right now. I feel like most of my family secretly thinks I should be going to RTC or ECC, living at home while pursuing a degree. But I think they also know that that I wouldn’t be happy doing that. Or scratch that- I might be happy, but I wouldn’t be the best possible version of me. I would be the version of me that is just getting by, doing what everyone else wishes her to do. I really do thank every body for being there for me the past year, and letting me go my own way. It took you letting me go for me to really make all of this happen- if you would have shown too much resistance, I would have talked myself out of this. So remember that, please, when I’m embarking on future adventures. I know the city life or rough neighborhoods may not be the life you want to live in six months, but it’s an experience I want to have. I may end up living on forty-acres or in a town of 20,000 in the future, but that’s something I need to decide on my own. Coincidentally Cat Stevens’ “Father and Son” is playing in the background right now. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />This next month is going to be a busy one for me. I updated my iCal today, and woah! We have two groups, and I get to reunite with my long lost love, Ruben. Living not too far from Little Rock, I have decided to use the city to my advantage. The Clinton School of Public Service is having a bevy of lecturers this month, and I have a seat to the following:</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"> </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />April 8, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Joseph Nye, "Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics"</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Joseph Nye, a professor and former dean of Harvard's Kennedy School, is the author of "Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics," among other books. He has served as Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs, Chair of the National Intelligence Council, and Deputy Under Secretary of State for Security Assistance, Science and Technology.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">April 15, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Will Pearson, president and cofounder, mental_floss</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Will Pearson is cofounder of mental_floss, a bi-monthly magazine that presents facts and trivia in a humorous way. Pearson and his friend Mangesh Hattikudur first published the magazine while they were students at Duke University. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />April 17, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">James Carse, "The Religious Case Against Belief," part of the Arkansas Literary Festival</span><br /> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Religious scholar James Carse will discuss his book, "The Religious Case Against Belief," which argues that "belief" has corrupted religion and spawned violence around the world. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />April 21, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Michael Dukakis, former Governor of Massachusetts</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Michael Dukakis is the former governor of Massachusetts and 1988 Democratic presidential candidate who was defeated by George H.W. Bush. Since June 1991, Dukakis has been a distinguished professor of Political Science at Northeastern University and visiting professor at the School of Public Affairs at UCLA. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />April 27, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Dr. Phil McGraw</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br />Dr. Phil McGraw is the host of "Dr. Phil," the second highest rated daytime talk show in America. The show has been making headlines and breaking records since its September 2002 launch, when it garnered the highest ratings of any new syndicated show since the launch of "The Oprah Winfrey Show" 17 years prior. </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"> </span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br />April 28, 2009</span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;">Jonathan Alter, Newsweek senior editor</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">At Newsweek, Jonathan Alter has written the widely acclaimed "Between The Lines" column since 1991, examining politics, media and society at large. He covered the past five presidential campaigns and has frequently interviewed American presidents and other world leaders.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I still have two days left in March though, for which I need to prepare myself. I’m off to hit the sack, and hopefully soak up some sweet dreams.</span><br /><br />P.S. It's not in Courier. <span style="font-weight: bold;">You are welcome, Mr. P.</span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2395460589108525196.post-77362175649610399722009-03-08T21:33:00.011-05:002009-08-11T10:45:08.767-05:00सॉरी फॉर थे देले<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAF2-xfPnTxR_KGV8Oz33J-WWMgMCnkJrLX1H4spMW7hF1rXJftXCnk0hnjX4EuqObbGrxsYFsTywJ_ota4J2f9xEozvtf41SLS3m5Q7dsNJJQ3JU0YwE_XLgEYyYmAVWWe8h9tYvPQQ/s1600-h/IMG_9248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAF2-xfPnTxR_KGV8Oz33J-WWMgMCnkJrLX1H4spMW7hF1rXJftXCnk0hnjX4EuqObbGrxsYFsTywJ_ota4J2f9xEozvtf41SLS3m5Q7dsNJJQ3JU0YwE_XLgEYyYmAVWWe8h9tYvPQQ/s320/IMG_9248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311018817684171714" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">For reasons I don't quite understand, my computer began to type this entry in Hindi. That is quite interesting.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">What the subject line says, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ough</span>, is "Sorry for the Delay." It's been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">nea</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">rly</span> two weeks since I've last updated, and you are all severely out of the loop. I apologize for that, but you see, I've been quite busy.<br /><br />Last Saturday was the Arkansas Flower and Garden Show. Heifer had a booth in the </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Kids' corner, and I volunteered to help out. We brought along four goat kids, Peter the unpleasant Rabbit, </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">and a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">vermicomposting</span> bin full of worms. It was a lot of fun. I figured the goats would steal all of our thunder, as I was at the table with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">vermicomposting</span> information, you know, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">bori</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ng</span> stuff, but I was pleasantly surprised. A significant amount of people stopped and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">se</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">emed</span> genuinely interested in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">vermicomposting</span>, and requested to hear our little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">schpiel</span> about the beauty of composting. I would go on and on about it here, but I don't want to lose your interest too quickly. Just know that the US produce 160 million tons of solid waste each year- 85% of which ends up in a landfill. Of that 85%, 25-40% is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">compostable</span> material. Not only does composting divert waste from a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">landfil</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">l,</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"> but it also helps to replenish valuable nutrients to our soil. Everybody wins, rights?<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrb965nSjbpUfYF4m4Czi9JJOak_Yq7xezncqsHW1eGM6Sm3TBzpccZz1i_UwjT37sO2kdFTtliMicNikDETc4Pw7ZdZ8qu31zmdJvlaBxktIysTuhiGZNhPpbjjmyoqgABH3VKS-6Q/s1600-h/IMG_9241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrb965nSjbpUfYF4m4Czi9JJOak_Yq7xezncqsHW1eGM6Sm3TBzpccZz1i_UwjT37sO2kdFTtliMicNikDETc4Pw7ZdZ8qu31zmdJvlaBxktIysTuhiGZNhPpbjjmyoqgABH3VKS-6Q/s320/IMG_9241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311020295082258194" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">It seems like I have been getting the complete Arkansas experience since moving here. Most free (or cheap) events in the area revolve around folk culture in the state. Last Monday the Heifer-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">ites</span> loaded up into two vans and went to the big city to attend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Rackensack</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Rackensack</span> is Arkansas' folk society, and they have a concert/gathering once a month where people bring instruments, songs and stories which they share with their peers. It was a lot of fun- I heard a lot of new folks songs, and was lucky enough to see a large quantity of quality entertainers. It's always funny when the Ranch goes to local events- I swear people must think we're a commune or cult. We all show up in these identical blue vans, and we sit together with big goofy smiles on our faces. We're all fairly young, but there's always one or two older folks who tag along, so I'm sure it seems like they are our captors of some sort.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"> Everybody loves Heifer around here, but I'm sure there are a lot of misconceptions there, too. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhlzu50dOwXEboH1OdxSUcoKjtmsRMv9nxgVlXlX9mAxki3xizA8pbe-nXvTb3y17RIgf-pbD0-VUZZrQq09DoA4pJ3XQ4eZtHgam50z7Sdy23gfKFaQS7E9tAxNM49wNQXPCSqTHDw/s1600-h/IMG_9262.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhlzu50dOwXEboH1OdxSUcoKjtmsRMv9nxgVlXlX9mAxki3xizA8pbe-nXvTb3y17RIgf-pbD0-VUZZrQq09DoA4pJ3XQ4eZtHgam50z7Sdy23gfKFaQS7E9tAxNM49wNQXPCSqTHDw/s320/IMG_9262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311023324266193058" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Friday we once again piled into the vans to go contra dancing, the bastard child of square dancing and English dancing. It was a lot of fun- there was a complete mixture of demographics(I was dancing with an elementary student and a Senior citizen at one point.) It's a very social dance. Yes, you do start off with a partner, but most of the time you dance with everybody in the room by the end of t</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">he song. Plus, they give you instructions before each individual dance, and then call out directions during the actual song. I really enjoyed it, and got quite the work out at the same time. Afterwards my van stopped at Sonic for some ice cream and good times. </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHszSYQMwb9YSWKHvw782mR6PKfLG7Mn9ydnvy5jmOp2K1oM0Dic0Fss30uSweHMB5pRu4_mB8FSA4HFANKezxVwOcBoAwYhZg9eMBbJHYzujNYUhnFQWXJHz94M6LJ1mWSOPAn84uw/s1600-h/IMG_9309.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHszSYQMwb9YSWKHvw782mR6PKfLG7Mn9ydnvy5jmOp2K1oM0Dic0Fss30uSweHMB5pRu4_mB8FSA4HFANKezxVwOcBoAwYhZg9eMBbJHYzujNYUhnFQWXJHz94M6LJ1mWSOPAn84uw/s320/IMG_9309.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311024666159632962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ABbdSPE7bA6wrtlIEf9BW1tiyot13piYlhIJEzk22tjjJMcQjgQcYecw7Kn5eSnW6Zjgi0B9URwcXk8zPm9_8kVKwXQ9ApuSUxJuBr-QzMJ47Hfi0N5Y0xUIZa8RlkIIyZWCR1hHcQ/s1600-h/IMG_9297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ABbdSPE7bA6wrtlIEf9BW1tiyot13piYlhIJEzk22tjjJMcQjgQcYecw7Kn5eSnW6Zjgi0B9URwcXk8zPm9_8kVKwXQ9ApuSUxJuBr-QzMJ47Hfi0N5Y0xUIZa8RlkIIyZWCR1hHcQ/s320/IMG_9297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311025095595576882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">This weekend has also been a good wee</span><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">kend</span> for visitors. Friday one of my campaign friends, Morgan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Bearden</span>, stopped by the ranch on his way home from a business trip. He got a little tour and learned more about the organization. It's always nice to see a familiar face in the place I love. :) Saturday morning I got a really nice treat- my grandparents stopped by on their way back from California. They left for the coast a few weeks before I moved out, so I've really been dying to see them. We went to the local establishment Jones Cafe and had us a good and decent Arkansas breakfast. I then <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">commandeered</span> a golf cart and took them on a tour of this fine establishment. I think they enjoyed it, or at least I hoped they did. I really enjoyed seeing them. I can't wait until I can go back home and enjoy some Grandma food now. :)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Sunday was an amazing day. I got up early and made pancakes for my fellow and adventurer, Neil, and I. We then went to St. Michael's in Little Rock, and enjoyed ourselves some church. Afterwords we met up with a ranch staff member, Ryan, his girlfriend, and Reagan, a guy we met at a Fat Tuesday potluck. We all drove a few blocks and went to the amazing Indian joint Amruth. After having to drag ourselves out of the chairs we walked in the beautiful sunshine to Whole Foods where we shopped and perused the dumpster (well, this time I let Neil go at it alone. I actually payed for my food this week.) It was a very long Sunday, but a very beautiful one that deserved to be savored. I settled down in the evening with a good book and nap. Today was once again a beautiful day. I was able to sit outside in the sunshine for training all day, and even managed to get a little bit of color on my cheeks. After work I went for a shopping trip in Perryville, and the most amazing thing happened- One of our volunteers didn't have enough cash on hand to make a purchase. A random, kind, gentleman behind her gave her the two bucks needed so that she could not have to put anything back. Really... that is what Arkansas is like. Everybody is nice, happy, and oh so giving. I'm sure they look at Heifer Ranch as a cult or commune, but they love and support us anyway. It's just a nice place to be. :)<br /><br />I do have a silly thing to say, though. For some reason I was really out of it today. I was practicing a presentation with Riva, and she said she had to go to the bathroom. So I offered to go to the bathroom for her- instead of finishing up the presentation for her. I didn't even catch on until everybody else in the group started cracking up and asking if I was feeling okay. I proceeded to make similar mistakes/comments for the remainder of the day. I felt like such a ditz.<br /><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /></span></span>Erika Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11232761370571035316noreply@blogger.com5