there is no place like home

While I was on the phone with my friend Ryan today, my roommate Grace overheard and tried to jump in on the conversation. The end result was hilarious. It went something like this:

Ryan (on the phone): "Erica can you help me with my Law College personal essay?" (side note: Ryan calls Law School, Law College. He somehow thinks calling it so makes it less intimidating)
Erica (also on the phone): "Sure. When is a good time?"
Ryan: "Later tonight, Wednesday night or Thursday night."
Erica: "Don't you have the homeless people gathering at your house on Monday nights?"
Grace (not on the phone- in the living room): "Oh! I do that!"
Amber: (also not on the phone- in the dining room): "You do what? You have homeless people over to your house? Funny, cause I live here and I've never witnessed that."
Grace: "No, I do homeless people."
Amber: "You have sexual intercourse with homeless people?"

Of course Grace could not recover from this one. We think she was trying to say she has a heart for homeless people or that she worked at a homeless shelter at one time- or something to that effect.

I like my life today. I felt like I gained some parallel disclosure with a friend tonight, laughed a whole stinking lot with Amber about a sport in gymnastics we never knew existed (some gymnastics trampoline event) and had a good house conversation about suffering/servant hood/what will matter the most at the end of our lives (acknowledging first and foremost the blood of Jesus). Pretty good for a Monday.

Indecision...and extremes.

To tell you the truth, I can't seem to shake the laziness lately. I mean, I exercise, I go to the gym. I'm busy-what I mean is I have a job. And then there's my bustling social life. How do I have time to be lazy you ask? Oh but I do. And in those lazy moments, I watch television. Lots and lots of it. Wednesday, after recovering from a traumatic blood donating incident (more on this later), I stayed home from the gym (classic laziness) and I watched more than a few hours hours of television. Gross. I managed to do the dishes and make a little dinner. I showered. I brought home some work and did nothing but look at it sitting in a pile on the floor... but I'd still say I'm pretty lazy, even when I'm not on a not-feeling-so-great day. Now, onto my theory of why I've been watching so much t.v. lately: I'm bored (besides my obsession with the Olympics). Some would say that boredom doesn't exist, that saying you're bored is a sin, because God provides us with plenty to do and one should never feel bored. I suppose that's valid. So I guess I'm sinning. But why? With so much to do, why am I resorting to doing so little? Remember my vigor in the search for passion just days earlier? Yep, already lost it. It's really draining. I think the answer is that it's time for a change. A big change. A life change.
Options:
1. get knocked up. - Not practical, very expensive, might make my mother cry.
2. cut off ALL my hair. - no frickin' way. My hair is my power. What I have left of it, that is. Ok, so I don't have a ton of hair, but I still hold firm that a woman's appeal is her hair. And other things too, but good hair is essential.
3. punch someone in the face. - always entertaining, but it hurts on both ends.
4. Steal a car and drive to Mexico. - love this idea, not ready to go to prison-don't think I will ever be
5. ? - I'll take suggestions.

Enjoy the silence

Thursday lunch. I'm standing in line at Subway with a colleague. We chat amicably. The line moves and we reach the front. The woman serving us has an eastern European accent.
"Vat vill you have?" she inquires.
My friend requests a six-inch cold cut on wholewheat bread.
"Vill that be tvelve-inch?" the woman asks.
My friend responds in the negative. The Subway employee seems confused.
"I'll take the other half of that," I say, trying to be helpful.
She looks at me quizzically and then says something that I don't quite catch but think sounds like, "Oh. That's how you two are."
She turns to get the bread. "I didn't quite catch that," I say.
My friend tells me that it sounded to her like she was insinuating something about our relationship based on my offer to take the other half of her bread. The woman returns. It looks to me like she is smirking.
"You vill have sex, too?" she asks me.
Before I understand what she is asking my eyes get really wide.
"Uhhh," I start, before it clicks. "Oh. Six. Yes I would like a six-inch sandwich as well. Yes. That is what I will have."
And so I did. Minus the bread.
What a dramatic morning. But a predictable one in the life of one, EAH.

Sunny Summer Days....

I wrote a number of songs for my Kindergarten class when I lived and taught in Korea. Their favourite-BY FAR- was Sunny Summer Days. If you ask me sometime and there is a piano around, I'll play it for you. It is a catchy little tune, if I do say so myself. I reveled in the moment when I would start to play the intro and my little 4 and 5 year olds would stand up and begin to sing the chorus. Not only that, the song contains an ad-lib part in which they must pick summer time activity verbs and put them in the song. This was a coveted position. For the week days of June, July and August- just singing that song in the morning put me in the best mood-EVER.
The past few weeks have been the same for me as singing that song was in Korea. Most of that has to do with my dear friend and roommate, Amber. It is amazing how God brought our lives back to seemingly the same place after 7 years of separation. The last 3 weeks have been nothing but enjoyable. Even though Amber and I couldn't be more different...sometimes I fear she might understand me better than possibly anyone else. And- she is not afraid to tell me her thoughts on my thoughts or...me. This is a brave woman. We have the most hilarious conversations about "surgery," past relationships, theology, literature, sports, crossword puzzles and our flaws- well, mainly mine...cause i have WAY more. Thanks for a great, uncrowded three weeks-Ber. Let's keep the party going. I'll work on my attitude. And patience. I promise.

p.s. If you don't know Amber, it would do you well to befriend her. She is awesome. And her mom got bit by a barracuda.

5 letters: Napoleon's punishment

First just let me say, I've missed you. I must explain a couple reasons for my lackluster blogging performance as of late: Blogspot.com broke my heart a few weeks ago when I logged on to my page and saw that two of my entries had been magically erased. I wouldn't have minded it if it hadn't been my two favourite posts I've written to date. I moved past that pain and have been mercilessly seduced by late night talks, tagging along as a fifth wheel on a blind date and have started quite possibly my most serious relationship of the summer- with the Beijing Olympics. I sacrifice sleep, lunch breaks and friend time for my new interest. This is definitely a first for me. Usually nothing can tempt me to keep my eyes open past ten p.m., but the Olympics seem to have me all figured out. It knows my weakness: Swimming. After the Men's 400m freestyle relay on Sunday and the subsequent voice strain that soon followed from screaming like most men during Monday Night Football, I knew the Olympics started stirring something deep within my soul. After the open ceremonies on Friday night, I painted for almost 2 hours Saturday evening. I also fixed my guitar and bought new strings-a first since I stopped playing publicly last Fall. I went to the pool on Monday and swam 2600 meters. I am still paying for it a day later. During a conversation with my Dad about why I ever quit swimming, he said something that has had my mind in knots all week: "Erica, you knew you weren't going to be an Olympic swimmer, and for some reason, if you know you aren't going to be the best at something, you don't want to be a part of it at all." He continued to compare it to art and music in my life. I think he is right and I don't know why I respond that way. It makes me ashamed to come to the realization that the things I thought I loved to do were not motivated by passion but by success. I want to have faith in the gifts I've been given. I want to actively use them. I want to be free to fail in the things I love in life knowing and believing that failing doesn't mean I am a failure. I want to be faithful and courageous with my gifts and I am on the hunt for true passion in my day-to-day life. I don't want to be in exile any longer.