Lost checkbook crisis resolved, via closing my checking account and extracting myself from large mysterious banking corporations. I've spent a lot of time on the phone shuffling my student loans and taking care of loose ends that make me feel grown up and capable.

A lot of it has to do with the negative backlash I've been feeling since leaving AmeriCorps. I desperately need to feel strong and independent again. I am determined not to act like a victim, as if the program did something to me. But now that I'm home, I can see how absurd so much of my thinking was, even though it was normal while I was in AmeriCorps. By that I mean, if I'm not happy or if I see problems, I'm the one who was at fault. I'm not being "positive" or "flexible" enough. True strength is plastering a smile on your face so you don't make anyone uncomfortable. Being honest or not wording yourself perfectly is an invitation to be judged. Making snap judgments of people is a recreational sport. No matter how hard I am trying to stay afloat, someone is fed up with me and has written me off. Writing people off is okay.

If I am supposed to be positive through adversity, let's at least admit that AmeriCorps was an adversity. I did not feel encouraged or supported, just determined to prove everyone wrong and hold onto the small group of people that I did feel honest and safe with. Before AmeriCorps, I was easygoing and dealt with anger in small, manageable doses. By the end, I was angry all the time, even in the back of my mind, and at some point, I quietly snapped. I didn't want to put one more drop of effort into people that looked down on me or could care less. I absolutely would not fake anything anymore, because someone was going to get annoyed with me no matter what I did. My instinctive reaction to still feeling angry and frustrated was to blame myself, as if that would fix anything. It is my fault I am not happy enough, or resilent enough, or strong enough.

While that may work for other people, I can't walk away from myself or write myself off as useless. I am going to start by acknowledging everything that I feel, and not worry about blaming or judging or having it be right or wrong. I DO feel angry. I am incredibly shaken that my first year after college has passed and I don't know what the hell happened. I am so angry at myself for not proving myself better, for being slow and unkind. There are so many ways I could have helped and inspired people. I am trying to feel better by telling myself that I tried my best, but that is just depressing. The truth is, I did. I did try my best, and I am disappointed by my best.

I want to be able to write that I learned from this all and I am smarter and stronger now. I want to write that for myself, and for you the reader, to get some satisfaction from my journey. But I can't, yet. So you'll have to hang in there with me. I know there is good in there for me to reflect on, but I'm not there yet. I still need to rant and feel shaken some more. If I try to rush it, it'll sound fake.

I need honesty, encouragement, time to truly go at my own pace, and real friends. I desperately want a community to belong to and flourish in, and AmeriCorps wasn't it. I am tired of the word love being thrown around by well-meaning people who only love within their own circle. I can't believe I came out of this year more distrustful than I was before.

I think it just hit me that I have less than two days left in NCCC.

I can't believe it's almost over. Even though I have been so ready to leave for months, this has become so much a part of my life that I've still been putzing around, keeping weird hours, and not feeling that separation at all. There is so much I need to do tomorrow!!

Transition week has been a few hours of outprocessing and meetings sprinkled in a mindless slog of room inspections and packing. That's all I really have to say about that. Going to Utah with Dani was though, as she said, the perfect ribbon to tie off this whole year. I think it was my first legit roadtrip, with our own little rental car and all, and it was a success. It has been a shame to have spent our year serving the Southwest region and have had little opportunity to properly enjoy the natural beauty here, aside from seeing the Rockies beyond the dining hall windows.

I will say this: thank god for being young, and being able to pack a week's worth of sightseeing into 1.5 days. We started driving Friday night and arrived in Moab, Utah around midnight. On the way, we were totally distracted by all the stars we could seethrough the windows, so we pulled into a sketchy truck resting area andgot out to look at them. I can say this with little exaggeration---there were more stars than night. The Milky Way arched from one horizonto the other, like a glittering white band. I have never seen it asmore than a cloudy smudge before. We ended up sleeping in our car at a La Quinta parking lot to wait for the park to open in the morning. At 6am, we sat up, cleaned ourselves off at a gas station restroom and made our way to Arches National Park. We spent the entire day hiking and seeing most of the arches before blearily laying out at our campsite watching the stars.

It was amazing. My favorite part was when we stopped to rest by the Tapestry Arches. We could see them across a deep dried river bed and I suddenly knew that I had to try to get to the other side. So while Dani rested, I began crawling across, going off the main path, and finally made it up there. The whole day I had been moving far slower than Dani and getting tired of trailing behind. It was liberating to go at my own pace and do this awesome thing.

I am excited for the shock of leaving here. I know there's no way to anticipate it exactly and I am looking forward to that sudden realization, and whatever clarity may result from that blessed distance.

Transition week is unpleasant. Six more days until I am an AmeriCorps alumnus. Tonight, Dani and I are hopping in a car and roadtripping to Utah to camp at the Arches for the weekend!

On the boardwalk again. More posts need to be set into the ground; time to blearily blast ourselves with bug spray, load the auger onto the cart, and haul heavy boards down the trail one by one. Any idle moment is an opportunity to lean against something and close our eyes. None of us are fully awake; we haven't been all week.

Like everyone else, I barely notice what my hands are doing; in my mind, I am already home in a small townhouse in New York, lost in dreams of my grown-up life beyond AmeriCorps. A rotted trail lies beyond the deck we just laid out. When I pull at a black moss-coated board, it falls apart in my grasp.

I know that I will never look at a boardwalk, or any seemingly simple wooden construction, the same way again. A seamless join of two boards at an angle is a sign of mastery; a bent, hammered nail might belie a good-hearted amateur slaving away in the sun, too tired to dig it out and try again. I will also perceive the necessary wreckage, how someone had to take apart the previous structure to begin anew. It was dark, dirty work loading up the debris of the old boardwalk, and even as we tore it apart, new life was breeding in the cracks of each board.

I think what I gained the most from this round was an appreciation for that process of destruction and rebirth. This round was not easy. For most of it, I did not feel like myself, still do not, and found myself questioning my worth, capabilities, and even simple judgment. I have never felt more like a stranger in my life, unable to feel safe with anyone and constantly wary of making the wrong assumptions. I can't understand why I have been through so much in my life and yet still allow myself to feel so small. It is a challenge to step outside your comfort zone, and while everyone encourages you to try it, no one knows what to do with you when you end up falling short. Even though I am tempted to view this round as a personal failure, if I look at the work I have done in the past two months, I can see that it was part of the process. To build a stronger foundation, you need to break everything down, and start fresh.

I spent the last four years in relative comfort, flourishing in a supportive community of passionate individuals who shared many of the same ideals as me. I had close friendships with people whose minds hummed along similar wavelengths and enjoyed working with people with similar interests and goals. I built up a lot of things during my time at Wesleyan, including a sense of identity that was based on the friendships I had made, the specific passions I had pursued, the confidence from standing tall in my little world, and a strong need to help others. With this altruism in mind, I decided to join AmeriCorps and see what else there was to me.

I was not prepared for how deeply losing Wesleyan would affect me. What I thought was a natural extension of my time at Wesleyan--- another community of young idealistic people--- turned out to be a quick unraveling of the comforts I had taken for granted there. I lost my support system and couldn't figure out how to translate my strengths into this experience--- my optimism became naiveté, patience into slowness, exuberance into ditziness, passions into quirks, and introversion into shyness. It was so difficult for me to connect to others. Beyond that, I greatly value open communication, asking questions when something is unclear or unfair, and working together to find solutions. In my AmeriCorps experience, to be brutally honest, a lot of that has been tamped down in the name of positive thinking, flexibility, homogeneity, and respect for authority.

This year, and primarily this round, has been a challenge for me to uphold my values, find and use my voice with a not always receptive audience, and be at peace with the new identity I am forming. I have discovered, very clearly, that it is impossible to please everyone and I would respect myself more if I speak up for myself and not tolerate passive aggression and unkindness in anyone, even those I admire. I have discovered that I can hide my feelings very well and slip easily into being quiet and agreeable, rather than brave being honest and seeking support. I have discovered how I am weak in many ways and I have not miraculously cleared all my faults in a tidy ten month period to become a golden Corps Member, but that's okay.

To everything, there is a season. I heard this passage years ago, but I think I know what it means now. There are the times when you feel like you are your best, truest self, and everything is shining with purpose and meaning. And there are times when you have to take a step back, see what needs to be done, and be extra kind to yourself and others. This round, if I haven't made it clear already, is one of the latter.

I would say that I am better at forgiving myself, but it's not really about forgiveness. Everyone has their own process. And I respect that, just as I am trying to respect and love my own process, potholes and all. I never want to be so hard on myself and fixed on where I and everyone else should be that I can't see how hard everyone is trying to grow in their own way, whatever season they may be in. And just like that, I think it's about time to start rebuilding.

Well, the storm has passed. Our team leader called a meeting, where we basically hashed out most of the tension on them team and I got to say my piece. I had written a thing up, some notes on what I wanted to communicate to the group about needing to support each other and stay positive, but what came out instead was an admission of my own difficulty seeking support when I need it and how hard this round has been for me. I did not expect my eyes to begin watering, or to see my teammates nodding with me in empathy. We have a lot of problems as a team, but the meeting diffused the immediate danger of boiling over, so life is hot and tolerable again in Moundville.

About three weeks left in the round, and eleven days until I hop on a train to New Orleans to visit my friend John for a few days. My body is sore and exhausted from working outside in 98 degree weather all week. Bruises and mosquito bites everywhere. I think I am getting stronger, even though I feel so tired.

Today, the road to our house was blocked off by a sudden mass of cars by the neighbor's house. Turns out that they were having a family reunion, and their great-grandparents used to live in the house we're staying at. We let them come in, and they walked around reverently, staring at everything and taking pictures. The whole family, about twenty something people at least, piled into the add-on room turned craft workshop for a local artist and talked about how so-and-so's bed used to be here and they used to come in and listen to grandpa and watch the new television set. I appreciate the house so much more now. One thing I love about the south is how important family is here, and the ties run far and deep. When Mike and I canvassed local streets to invite people to come to our day of service, we met a 72 year old who was riding around a tractor with his little grandson. He said he'd been in Moundville his whole life and that his whole family was here. I wish our team could absorb the laid-back warmth of this town more. We definitely need it for this last round.

The countdown has begun. As another teammate put it, I am basically mentally checked out and it's hard for me to discuss how difficult this round is for me. The hardest part is that I feel so god awful isolated and lonely here, and I can't bring myself to confide in anyone here. I don't really trust anyone on my team. I have been fairly desperate for a sense of community after leaving all my friends from college and breaking away from several long-term important friendships that turned unhealthy, and I can't stomach the disappointment that I ended up with a team I can't connect with at all, or feel like myself with at all, that probably views me as this fragile, small, naive creature that I've regressed to since I've decided to stick my head in the dirt until I finally go home.

I just miss having a genuine conversation with someone, the hours long heart probing kind where you feel like you really get to know someone. I wish I had just one like that during my time with this team. Instead, I spend all day trying to be productive and rack up a little list of accomplishments in my head. I have never felt comfortable relaxing and just doing nothing here. I dread going to bed because I usually end up crying just lying in the dark and being forced to think about how little I like myself here and how alone and on edge I feel.

Jamie B told me that if I ever feel alone and misunderstood here, just step away and think about the allies I do have in my life who are with me in spirit, the ones who love me, and KNOW me, and will not judge me. It does make me stronger, even though that number has dwindled.

This is another lesson. It is such a gift to simply be known. Compassion isn't just about understanding others' suffering; it's also about recognizing and respecting each person for their own history, values, and gifts. This isn't necessarily a condemnation of AmeriCorps, but I have never felt so expendable and trivial and carelessly judged since high school. Maybe it's because there are so many of us, and so many leaders among us wanting to shine.

Why do we always have to get things done in the most efficient way possible with the most capable people on top? I thought this program was also about supporting each other and helping each other grow. The whole point is that it's not a contest--- can we please slow the fuck down and look out for each other too? I have been pushing my own limits and challenging myself constantly, both mentally and physically, but I feel like it just slows people down and they want me to get out of the way. In my dark state of mind, I wonder if maybe it was pointless to try to be "flexible" and do all different kinds of work--- there are some things I don't do well and I should let the capable people do it and stop sticking my feet in. I feel like I can't try hard enough here--- it's just not good enough. I was so strong last round--- in just 5 weeks, my confidence and sense of self has eroded so much. I am miserable and depressed. I would seriously quit if it weren't so close to the end.

I know I am stronger than this. I want to be strong for other people too. I know everyone else on the team needs support too, and I want to be trusted enough to help them too. It is so important to me to be able to give back to others and there is nothing worse than feeling needy and useless.

4:45 PM 5/25/2009

On the kanji dictionary on my DS, I found a world clock function; it said that it's almost 6 am in Japan. Somehow, just seeing that took me there for a moment. I could see the quiet scalloped rooftops tinged grey and yellow in the early morning light, the slow flight of birds, a few bicycles jingling down the streets. No matter where I am, it's exciting to envision myself somewhere that is completely the opposite. Japan is as far as you can get from Moundville, Alabama.

This is Day 6 of Alabama. We have a small house for the nine of us, in the middle of Moundville Archaeological Park. Our job here is to tear down a rotting boardwalk and rebuild it, to restore part of a nature trail that has been closed for about three years. We've only worked for a day so far, before getting treated to a rainy three day weekend. The few people we've met here have been nothing but warm and hospitable. There's not much to the town besides the park, the bigger neighboring town being Tuscaloosa. Our first two nights here, we went to a nearby diner--- I got grilled cheese on Texas toast, banana creme pie, and sweet tea. The next night, a Native American family who lives nearby cooked us traditional stew and cornbread. So far, life is good here in the South.

Two major perks: a pair of bicycles, and the neighbor's dog, Charlie. Charlie isn't the brightest dog (he's been known to run in front of cars), but he makes up for it in sweetness. He sleeps on our doorway and follows us wherever we go. I took one of the bikes for a ride around the park--- there is nothing better than riding a bike under an endless canopy of trees. I went all the way down to the Black Warrior river, which looks like something out of Lord of the Rings. I hope it doesn't rain the whole time so I can go again and bring my drawing pad.

Some notes about the park itself: Moundville is known for, not surprisingly, its ring of 20 or so giant earthen mounds built by prehistoric Native Americans. Besides the mounds and various pottery shards, not much has been left by the people who lived here. Long time ago though, these mounds were part of one of the largest Native American communities in the US. Being a chiefdom, the chiefs and spiritual leaders literally lived above the others. Around the time the Europeans came to America, the mounds were deserted. Almost every Alabaman has visited the park when they were in fourth grade. Not many have lived and worked here for two months though. If any of you has read "From the mixed up files of Basil E. Frankweiler," I kinda feel like those two kids living in a museum.

It's hard for me to adjust to being back with my old team. I had so many good friends on my shuffle team and I don't feel particularly close to anyone here. I'm more defensive and reclusive, which I think time and fewer rainy days will help fix. Either way, I am crazy excited about flying home this Thursday and spending five days with my family, as well as visiting John in New Orleans over the fourth of July weekend. This spike is going to fly by before I know it, and then I'll be going home for good.

A well-written, moving article on the importance of education. The fact that I was able to read it and feel so touched is proof of how blessed I am to be educated. Even though I felt useless and overloaded at school sometimes, I can see now how I was planting seeds for a long time. This year after School has been an unfurling; I'm waking up and sinking my fingers into so many worlds of knowledge. I know I was not one of those wildflower types that could have bloomed anywhere--- it took so many years of school to foster a spark of curiosity and concern and not be content to simply coast through life. I hope to never feel like I know enough, and never, ever to regard myself an expert in anything.

I only take issue with this paragraph (emphasis added):

Education is essential as it paves the path leading to disillusionment.It wipes out all the wrong beliefs in our minds. It helps create aclear picture of everything around us and we no more remain inconfusion about the things we learn. Education brings up questions andalso devises ways to find satisfactory answers to them. Education isabout knowing that everything has a science to it, it is about learningto reason everything till every question meets its answer. Educationcan lead us to enlightenment. It is education that builds in everyindividual, a confidence to take decisions, to face life and to acceptsuccesses and failures. It instills a sense of pride about theknowledge one has and prepares him/her for life!

For me, education has been the opposite. It cleared away my arrogant assertion that I knew everything I needed to know about anything, and forced me to consider to grey areas of issues that I thought were simple. It took away the childlike notions of good versus evil, right versus wrong. If anything, I know how to ask more intelligent questions and accept that the answers will lead me down further paths. I revel in the very confusion of the things I learn. This is the sort of enlightenment I think education can offer.

Despite the sudden appearance of rabbit holes, I agree that education can provide confidence, if just from the satisfaction of unknowing. I am so deeply curious because there is so much I don't know and there's no point in feeling insecure about that. However, the more knowledge I accumulate, the better decisions I make. I am  confident that I am making the best decisions based on what I know now. I don't blame myself for the things I don't know, but I appreciate that my future self will be better prepared. I am okay with constantly changing and evolving, because my values will only grow stronger and more nuanced.

Schools and colleges define the basic framework of education. Schoolinggives us the fundamentals whereas we specialize in fields of ourinterest, during the degree courses. But education does not end here.It is a lifelong process. Self-learning begins at the point that marksthe end of institutional education. The process of self-learningcontinues...

I could not agree more. I can't wait to become an educator. Until then, there is a lot I can do without a license.

A quote from my mother to close: "Education is the one thing no one can ever take away from you."

How much did the Star Trek rock? I had a smile on my face the whole time. As Dani said, I hadn't felt so much nerdy joy and giddiness in a long time. Well done, guys.

Our project changed. We're no longer doing Habitat in Birmingham, Alabama. Instead, we're building trails in Moundville Archaeological Park, which "contains the remains of one of the largest prehistoric Native American settlements in the United States."

We're probably going to be camping the whole time. I am so, so psyched. I didn't think I would be, but this is a lot more interesting than building houses, and there is so much history in this place. The town itself is small and doesn't seem to have much aside from this amazing park, but I am up for two months of hanging out in the woods. No computer, just books and drawing supplies. Now I just need to endure transition week.

For the last days of our project, our sponsors took us out camping somewhere along the Denver Trail, near the Buena Vista hot springs. It was heaven. Cooking everything over the fire, going to hot springs for hours each day, traveling to St. Elmo, an 1800's ghost town, looking out at the stars at night and playing Mafia... it felt way too short. This project was easily the best one yet, and I am really going to miss my shuffle team. Despite the drama that went down, I had a lot of fun and grew more as a person. I even have a tentative long-term plan: tutoring in Seattle next year ---> Teaching Fellows for 2-3 years on the east coast after that = get certified in Elementary School Special Education ---> Go traveling (maybe JET?) before I become attached to a school.

Now to take all the tiny mundane daily steps to get there.

A student at Wesleyan University was murdered this afternoon. She worked at the bookstore cafe two blocks from where I lived senior year. Someone came in and shot her five times at point-blank range.

I know this sounds like just another tragic school shooting to everyone not from Wesleyan, but this was my school. Stuff like that never happens there. It's this happy bubble of classes and clubs and everyone growing and struggling to figure themselves out. I just can't associate it with death. Wesleyan is a beginning, not an end. She never even had a chance.

I was stupefied after reading all the articles and news reports on it. All these familiar scenes that I haven't seen in so long, overlaid with police, frightened students, and a man with a gun. Then when I couldn't stand it, I went for a run. I went to the highest point of the baseline, where you can overlook the whole of Denver and see the mountains clearly. Johanna was from Colorado, just the town over. Even though I never knew her and can't safely assume much about her or what she would have wanted, she grew up with these mountains. This was her home. I sat in silent appreciation and respect for her home, and the opportunity to be there. Then I ran and ran until my lungs couldn't take it anymore and I collapsed on a sunny green field and stared at the trees and the sky until the gnats descended.

I'm praying for her family and friends, who have to suffer this incredible loss. I'm also not going to sit on my thumb anymore and wait around for my life to start. It's a luxury I can't take for granted.

After three close calls, including another freak snow day at the end of April, we finally shovelled manure onto the garden today. Two truckloads worth. I had to crawl onto the truck and kick it down because it was too compact. Photos forthcoming.

In other news, my plate is overflowing and I am totally fried and exhausted. Two more weeks before the end of this round. I am really going to miss Denver and my shuffle team. Did I mention that I'm going to Birmingham, Alabama next round to work with Habitat For Humanity?

I spent the whole day weeding a natural area at another elementary school. If you don't weed regularly, they easily get out of hand and overrun the garden. This garden had been neglected for some time and was covered in weeds and overgrown bushes and grasses.

When I saw the field covered with those unmistakable purple and green patches, I almost decided that it wasn't worth it to bother. Each patch was made of many individual redstem filaree weeds that would have to be dug out one by one. Although I enjoy the challenge of digging out a giant weed and taking care to remove all the tiny root stems, I could not indulge this field with our limited time there. Knowing that the roots would eventually grow back made it harder to kneel down at a corner and dig my spade into the first plant. But I did. By the end of the day, I had most of the field cleared by myself.

At first I was impatient. I would simply tear the plant out, leaving most of the roots under the soil. It's a waste to do that, because the roots will easily regrow and most likely spread farther. I forced myself to dig gently around the roots and lift the plant carefully. Usually it would just slip out intact. The tiny leaves are actually tinged with bright yellow, orange, red, and purple, more so than green. The larger ones sprout small purple blossoms in the center, like a tiny bouquet framed in rainbow grass. They turned out to be more beautiful than the humble grasses that had priority. Even though we had to take them out to let the other trees and flowers grow nearby, I wish there was an empty patch where we could let them grow and not bother anything else. They are lovely in their own right and would not be considered a problem if they were allowed to grow in an environment suited for them.

I may be vegetarian, but I have no qualms about digging out weeds. Mostly because they are greedy leeches and rob the soil and neighboring plants of nutrients. Also, they will inevitably grow back. But because of that, it can become a practice. The goal for now is not to fully eradicate these problems, but to become better at efficiently handling them as they arise and accept that the roots may always be there, among other growing things. Through regular maintenance and care, they will become less difficult. The joy is realizing how much power and control you actually possess over them.

I would like to tend my mind similarly. I need to be ruthless with cutting things down as naturally as I nurture my good, comfortable qualities. There is a reason why compassion is symbolized by a vajra, a diamond-like weapon, in Tibetan Buddhism. I have a tendency to try to keep the peace by keeping my mouth shut or over-indulging the other person's suffering. It ends up making me lose respect for myself and build up anger and frustration that I won't permit myself to release at other people. Lately it spilled over into restless sleep, subtle jabs, and seeds of negativity with far-reaching consequences that I know I have to clean up later. I have to find some direct means of expressing myself, tempered with full understanding and kindness. Writing has helped, especially writing letters to people. I'm working towards speaking directly and skillfully and responding appropriately right when a situation is occurring.

Becky's rule of thumb for thinning out bushes is to "cut off all the dead growth, then a third of the live stuff." Likewise, I have to be willing to let go of the habits, influences, and ideas of self that are holding me back and be willing to sacrifice some things are important to me to finally be free--- "to be myself," god forbid, even if I turn out to be a bitch sometimes.

One of the best days at work ever. We gave about 6 presentations toelementary school kids about gardening and helped them plant differentkinds of seeds in cups. They'll take care of in their classroom andwe'll come back to help them transplant the seedlings to their classgarden outside. Second graders and younger make me melt. I got no lessthan three random surprise hugs and lots of open adoration andcuriousity. God they're cute. Like human puppies or something. We spentthe rest of the dayclearing their garden and setting up the compost. Another day covered in dirt. I like that I'm becoming less fastidious.

Only three more days until "spring break." I'm dead tired. Ourcampus is the first NCCC campus to receive training in how to helppeople prepare for the switch from analog signal to digital, so I spent3.5 hours after work going to old people's houses and wiring theirancient televisions and making sure they could still use their VHSrecorders even with the new convertor boxes. I got two big packages ofbooks in the mail, as well as some lovely postcards from Alissa fromher travels. Less lame entry after I get some sleep.

Well,quick story: Last week we were at a school transplanting rose bushesand cutting down the most beautiful long grasses I have ever seen. Tallswaying stalks of gold, cornsilk, and pale purple. We had to cut themdown so they can regrow more easily during the warmer months. One kidwalked over to us with absolute shock and horror on his face. Hewhispered "....I'm telling" and looked like he was about to run. Wequickly explained that we were doing good things and they'll definitelygrow back. He seemed to understand and asked if he could help by usingthe clippers. After clipping for awhile, he saw his friend ran by andwaved his hands at him. "HEY. HEEEEY. I'M HELPING THE ENVIRONMENT!"

I don't know if that's as funny written as it was at the time, but it made my day.

God bless Denver weather. We had a snowstorm yesterday, so no work for two days. Instant four day weekend. They kept us busy for a few hours doing light office work and even had us drive out to three random people's houses and offer to shovel their lawns (????), but aside from these token gestures of work, it's been nice. Martin led an amazing service learning activity this morning; we watched a documentary on homeless people who lived in subway tunnels called "Dark Days" and spent at least two hours talking about everything from poverty, education, homelessness, literacy, immigration, to terrorism. I was really moved by how passionate and respectful everyone was and I appreciated how there were lots of different views, not just standard Wesleyan fare. I offered my thoughts at the end, but I was surprised that I found it very difficult to speak up during the talk. I was content to listen and most of what I wanted to say was already expressed, but I should have participated more. It reminded me of how I used to choke up during Sophomore Colloquium and I want to get as far away from that person as possible.

I have been feeling crazy reclusive and creative lately. I don't know what's up, but I'll humor it and hole up for awhile to see what happens. I fell in love with my black Japanese watercolor marker and finished my sketchpad. There has been quite a bit going on that I can't really write about here, but it's been a long week.

(Poorly taken with a webcam)

- Seek out strengths and positives about people and situations and reflect them in my mind, speech, and actions
- Maintain daily happy journal
- Take initiative by suggesting opportunities and doing more things independently
- Write a poem a week
- Run twice a week in preparation for first 5K run
- Complete ISP hours
- Limit computer time
- Support teammates in their goals
- Be a good friend to Brenda

After driving through the endless miles of golden wasteland that is Kansas, we made it back to Denver! I am so glad that I'm staying here for this round. It just feels right. Maybe I'm confusing this excitement and contentedness with nostalgia for college life. It is very easy to pretend sometimes that I'm back at school, especially since I've had to type up and turn in so many papers for AmeriCorps recently. Either way, I'm excited to explore more of Denver, have more time for personal projects, and be "paid" to dig in the dirt and play with kids.

( I have a lot of things to report, so this might take awhile. )

I'm staying in Denver for the next round! I'll be working with Learning Landscapes to create green spaces in urban elementary schools and help kids maintain a vegetable garden, paint murals, and get healthy and active. This was my choice, so I'm crazy excited. I have two good friends on my team, including my awesome roommate, so the next two months should be fun.

My whole body is aching. Our team cleaned up a local playground for our Day of Service yesterday, which was a fairly miserable ordeal, but I got leadership experience from organizing it and a good workout too. It was freezing and raining, so I'm proud of the team for pulling through. Most of the team went to the town of Hot Springs today, but I wanted to take it easy. I slept for a million hours, then had Spanish practice with Jen over lunch and busted out some surprisingly decent espanol. That felt really good. I love learning and using new languages and that is never going to stop.

Only three and half more days of work here. I am going to miss the babies. I've realized it's important to have regular connection with people from all walks of life, from the newborn to the elderly. That was one big thing that bugged me about college-- it can't be too healthy to be constantly surrounded by only your peers. I like being aware of where I fall in the spectrum and appreciating it for what it is.

AmeriCorps is testing me in a lot of ways, which is what I signed up for, but I hate sometimes feeling that I fall short. I'm very aware these days of all the things I would like to be better at. I have to fight the urge to wait for opportunities to start over, and just try my best to push through and do what I can now. I am not going to wait for next round or next year to be happy and become a better person. I have to start now.

Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll. I decided against going to Memphis today to have the day to myself and relax. It was really, really nice. I finished my email to Alissa (just need to go send it), watched 27 Dresses and Waitress, and slept forever. This is the first day in awhile that I've felt truly awake. It was a good call.

Where is the time going? We have three more weeks left in Arkansas. I'm enjoying my job more now that I've resolved to crank my energy up no matter what. I think what I like most about working with children is trying to see things the way they do. It's remembering how to do things just for the sake of doing them, and not worrying if you're "good at it." I like how they just say whatever's on their mind and only smile when they mean it. I don't know how I could have forgotten so much, since it hasn't been that long.

I've spent most of my Saturdays volunteering at the Humane Society. I haven't spent much time around animals, but I love being with these dogs. I'm amazed at how they're like people, and how distinct their personalities are. I didn't know you could get to know a dog like you get to know a person. Last week I fell in love with one, a big black Lab named Sweet Pea (yes, like the baby). She is the sweetest, mildest creature I have ever met. I took her on a walk last week and somehow her presence made me feel like I could breathe again. She took her time, smelling grasses and bushes, and stopped occasionally to peer back at me and wait for a reassuring rub. I went on an extra long walk and just held her for awhile. She is very well-loved at the shelter and exudes peace and joy that transforms anyone who meets her. I hope I can be like her someday.

A huge lanky puppy named Esprit has won my heart in a different way. She is pure joy, racing around the park with a big puppy grin and shamelessly nuzzling any humans in her path. After running around for 4 hours, she'll creep into my lap, tuck her small head into the crook of my knee and konk out. And another, Jasmine, who was abused by her past owner and shrinks away from everyone, but lets me rub her neck sometimes if I'm very gentle and quiet. I am glad to have met them, even the ones that ambush me and cover me in scratches and slobber. They make me feel open and at ease, which is so hard around people sometimes.

I just ranked my choices for next round's project and we're going to find out on the 24th. I really hope I get to stay in Denver doing an educational gardening project. Or be a lumberjack in Arizona. Oh the possibilities.

We're starting our third week in good ol' Little Rock, Arkansas! Just about five more to go. My mind is fried, so I'm going to do this Alex Kirst style for some sense of cohesion:



( spike 2 )