Faces and Places

Episode II

So I know I’m drastically behind. So much aside of DC has happened that is more than blog worthy but I have to finish my DC romp memoirs.

Saturday got started a bit late. The girl’s house that I was staying at was nestled in this lovely neighborhood with perfectly trimmed hedges and lawns and was peppered with breathtaking cherry trees in full bloom. Driving around their's and my cousin’s neighborhoods literally took my breath away. I had forgotten how beautiful that part of the world is. It’s just green green green with trees and trees and trees that are hundreds of years old. The earth is just different there. Everything just feels older and more dignified. Like California would be the cool 16 year old teenage sibling of a family and Virginia is the recent Yale graduate Prada wearing older sister. It was beautiful to the point of distraction. When we were in the car I would trail off mid sentence.

“So I was thinking that it would be fun to … is that a…. wow……………………”

What was more amazing to me than the trees was the fact that I didn’t remember them. I didn't have any shining memories of the trees or them being that beautiful. I was simultaneously amazed at the sight of them but chagrined because I’d forgotten such beauty. I harped about it for a stint and I started thinking “If I can’t even remember these trees what else did I forget?” I thought about it for quite a spell and then I realized something. Chris lives in a very suburby, Anglo, upper middle class part of Arlington. I spent 99% of my time in the densely populated downtown areas of Arlington and our drives to get to them were just as urban. There simply weren’t many trees to remember so it was like getting to know a place you’ve always known all over again.

But back to the Lady-hut… the ladies that I was staying with had an over abundance of foliage in their front yard and had organized home teacher types to come over early and do the yard work thing so all hopes of sleeping in were pretty much non-existent and in the long run I think that was a good thing. Who wants to waste time sleeping when there is so much fun to be had and trees to see and fall in love with?

So I went to this fantastic pancake house place with Christian for breakfast. It’s called the Original Pancake House and for good reason. They were scrumptious pancakes that tasted like they were made by genius Puritan women. My whole time there I was continually amazed that I lived in Arlington for 6 months and it was my business to know the city and where people were and why but little things like trees and breakfast places had totally escaped me. Chris and I talked about lenses and how differently they let us see a place. Here we were, two people, in the same car, going to the same place, from the same DNA pool even, that were simultaneously in two totally different places because of the lens that we were looking through.

After a nap and some lunch, in preparation for the "Olney Decade Dance Party" the boys had slated for that night, all the roommates, Chris, the HLP and I invaded the local Goodwill looking for costume ideas. And let me tell ya, shopping with one guy is fun, thrift store shopping with him is even more fun. Now, multiply that x5 and life is downright hilarious.

All the guys got their stuff and Chris and I ventured into this one Vietnamese strip mall called the Eden Center. It was an old haunt of mine and Chris came with me through the curry scented, jade studded narrow halls of the place with the chatter of karaoke coming from the next hall over. I wanted to see if my pen store was still around but alas it wasn’t. I was very sad, but kind of relieved to see that things had changed, even a little. That progress had taken place. I dunno - its hard to explain.

It was really interesting to watch Christian take in the place. He said that he didn't know that it was there even though its 3 square blocks big and announced with 12' high Chinese dogs and a big red gate almost straight out of Mulan. It goes back to that lens thing. I’m not sure he’d seen anything like it before. Asian shopping centers can be strange to western types. You expect a shop next to a shop and what you see on the outside is what you have on the inside. Discovering the catacombs that the Eden Center is with all their cells of shops dotting the tendrilesque hallways can be another world. Worlds inside worlds as a matter of fact.

We left without encountering anyone from the Korean mafia (that we know of) and landed back at home not soon before we were due at a Gratitude Dinner the Bella Vista Ward was putting on for the Langley Singles. Bella Vista is the Spanish Ward in the McLean Stake and I served there for 6 months. They’re still bit lean on leadership so a lot of the singles help out in the primary etc and they were putting on this dinner as a Thank You. It was a perfect time to go see my old members. I was afraid that there wouldn’t be a soul there that was there when I was. DC has a tendency to be a fairly transient area but there were a few families still there from when I was there. Enough that it took me a good 45 minutes to finish my plate for constantly jumping up and saying “do you remember me?” It’s been 7 years since they would have seen me. One sister spotted me immediately and she was one of my favorites in that branch and it was all hugs and squeals for about 5 minutes. I was pretty much in heaven. The current bishop was in the Stake Presidency when I was there and he was amazing. I’ve never worked with more involved and fantastic leadership. They were constantly around but didn’t stifle or hover. I just felt completely and totally supported and cheered on. Every member of the Stake Presidency knew my name, the name of my investigators, the names of my retention and where each one was. I think that’s one of my favorite parts of serving in DC. The area has a tendency to attract superlatives of whatever given field they happen to be in and that excellence is totally translated into callings. It was wonderful to see him again, he remembered me and went around introducing me as his daughter. Oh how I love that sweet man! It really was like coming home in so many ways.

That night after the dinner was The Party. Christian and his roommates throw a Spring event every year and they decided to correlate my visit and the shindig and I will be eternally grateful. I’ve never been to a Mormon house party like this one. Like ever. They turned their entire basement into a dance hall complete with black lights, disco balls and glow sticks. The glowy things were everywhere actually. You know those glowing spaghetti things you buy at Disneyland at night that are cold and you can loop them around your wrists or put them together for necklaces or what not? Yeah – literally everywhere and it was awesome. The Mountain Dew flowed, the base boomed, the volleyball ensued and all was pure awesome in Arlington that night. The boys were hilarious. One dressed up like J.J. from Good Times, one was an 80’s Michael Jackson, Chris was a homage to Kurt Cobain complete with flannel and ripped jeans, the HLP was Rick Astley, and the last one was someone from Balls of Fury or something like that. I couldn’t place him how much I tried.

I downed a few Dews and took a shot or two of the Redline Chris was good enough to get me in hopes I could get my energy up to party level but I was just tapped. That and I was almost completely lost in my head with all the mission revisits and people.

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I desperately love the people I served in DC. I did everything I could to be the best version of myself for them and for the Lord and coming back to it all and seeing them and still being the amazingly flawed person I am was difficult for me. The thought of facing them back at LAX almost landed me in tears more than once. I think that’s why I’ve put off a mission trip for so long. I wanted to be perfectly educated and perfectly married and perfectly healthy so I could come back all shiney and they could be proud of me. I feel the same way about my family, I know they love me and don’t expect perfection from me (or anyone for that matter) and if anyone is aware of how imperfect I am, it would be them. But because I think so highly of them and they all seem to be a lot closer to the mark than I am I find myself seeing those imperfections with much more clarity when I'm around them. So the more aware of how off I am the less inclined I tend to be about coming out. But I refuse to be held hostage by my fears and insecurities and often idealism is just a fancy name tag for insecurities so I decided to just go and be the best version of myself that I could muster, despite how fearful I am of being judged and in spite of the internal din of my own self-judgment. It was a lot to balance in the midst of this extravagant party with all the amazing and fun people that Christian knows. I hope I didn’t look like a distracted dope. That and jet laggy exhaustion didn’t help. Word to the wise: Do not ever take red eyes cross country and not give yourself a day to recuperate because it practically killed me.

I crashed, once again, far too late than I should have and was up earlier than I should have been, packed my bags, headed to church, dodged what part of the deluge that was the weather that day, and found myself back on a plane coming home to a place that felt a little bit less like home. I sat next to a very nice girl from PA who was going out to Hollywood to make a go of an acting career and a guy who was an engineer for MySpace. It was a fantastic ride home. All five and a half hours of it. They even played a Gerard Butler movie. I invited my new friend to church with me. Time was so tight that I went directly from church to a dinner to the airport still in my church clothes and there wasn’t time to change so I boarded the flight heals, skirt, pearls and all so she asked me where I was coming from and I said “church” and that spawned a whole conversation. It was awesome and very fitting coming home from my mission, again. It was all very sobering. I'm glad I had Gerry along for the ride.

I couldn’t help but imagine the floor of the plane being a running picture of all of the land and space that I was putting between me and the Potomac. I saw the Ozarks and the Mississippi, fields and fields of grain, The Rockies, the Grand Canyon all pass underneath me, putting me farther and farther from things I love but also getting me close to other things I love. I have a feeling that that flight is always going to be rough. Going from some place that feels like home to the place you call home will always be strange. It’s like you’re never going to stop saying goodbye to something you desperately love. Ever.

But thats what you sign up for when you do decide love something right? The reality that it can and probably will go away or you will have to go away but the hope that you or it can always come back .

And if there is one thing that cherry blossoms in the spring can whisper it's hope.

Faces and Places

Episode I

"If you can wake up in a different time and in a different place can you also wake up a different person?"

Thats how Tyler Durden came to be but I'm afraid I don't have the gumption to pull off that wardrobe. Or the cheekbones for that matter.

I got back from Washington DC on Sunday night. It was the first time I've been back to my mission since I went home and the first time I've seen my cousin's set up out there. All I've been doing since is processing the strange and marvelous experience it is and was. I've tried to figure out a way to put all of into some kind of charming travelogue but all I find is myself recuperating from traveling 6000 miles within 72 hours and the consequential mental fog.

So I'll just dump down what I've got and probably go back and edit about 4 times, like I do with all of my blogs but be forewarned - this might be lengthy....

The week leading up to the trip was, to put it mildly, insane. I was asked to teach at this Stake Inservice meeting and to teach teachers how to teach. I was a bit deer-in-the-headlightsish about the matter because I'm essentially a kid still and have limited experience in many many matters, principally that I'm not a mother (the most basic kind of teacher). So I felt ill-qualified. Taking an instructive position with one older, more experienced person is a bit off-setting so the thought of instructing a room full of leaders left me all but petrified. So I did what any self respecting girl would do in the situation.

I put on my pearls and Oscar de la Renta shoes, slaved over a graphic filled powerpoint and prayed really hard. Wednesday night was when it went down and I was flying out Thursday night.

I didn't have a single chance to get away and buy the boots I've been needing, or the dress I've had my eye on, or to get my toes and/or nails done. Not a bloody thing. I was lucky to get laundry done and make the plane.

I was taking the red eye Thursday night, touching down in Charlotte, NC and then catching a connector to DC. The LAX to NC flight was oversold and I didn't have a definite seat assignment so I was a bit irked and afraid even if I DID make it on the plane that I would get some crappy center seat and not be able to sleep a wink and be a miserable bunch of yuck the whole next day. I didn't want to start my trip off in a twit so I said a few silent fervent prayers in those crusty black leather trademarked LAX seats and when they called my name and gave me my ticket it was window seat at the front of the plane. Miracle #1 (there are a good many on this trip so stay tuned) I got to sleep most of the flight but I kept having disturbing dreams of being trapped at airports, needing to pee and dealing with planes full of the creepy goblins from the Spiderwick Chronicles (NOT a children's move btw) that were trying to take over the airport. Just weird crap. But the funniest part of the flight was before we were even on our way to the runway the woman behind me started snoring like it was an Olympic sport. I mean, everyone on the plane was ready for bed and planning to sleep. Half of us were asleep just sitting around waiting to board but this lady was GOING FOR IT. After about 3 huge ZZZZZZRRRRKKkkskkskssrrssss I couldn't hold it in anymore, broke the stunned silence, and just giggled till I got it out. What was refreshing that the rest of the forward cabin that was subject to the arresting din of that woman's nasal cavity followed suit had a good chortle too. It was like explosive chortle therapy.

AHhhh - plane rides... where would we be without the stories you provide?

So - I landed in NC. It was clean and gorgeous and I was sad and charmed. Sad that I was in the same state as my little bro and couldn't say hi but charmed by the huge atrium that is their central plaza complete with full grown trees and white rocking chairs beneath them. Var var nice. Very very Southern. They were giving out chicken biscuits too. That was lovely. I'll be back NC, just you wait.

So I finally land in DC at Dulles and am totally amazed that the gate I was at was the same gate I got off as a missionary 9 years ago (miracle #2). There wasn't the welcoming committee of my mission president, his wife and the three assistants like there was before, but it was the same gate with the same shops with the same strange and exciting smells. Then I got hugs, they all carried my luggage, and met me at the gate but this time around I had to find my own way and carry my own luggage. Miraculously (#3) my luggage was the first one off of the carousel. That never happens to me.

This trip was funny in a number of ways. One was that I was staying with a group of girls that, honestly, I had never met. Christian (my cousin I was visiting) has this marvelous ability to introduce me to awesome and amazing people. I've noticed that the cousin types and I sometimes share friends like we would clothes. We're all pretty similar personalities with similar senses of humor so we often find ourselves one big group of happy most of the time.

There were two particular girls that had been on the same email list as myself or something sometime a year and a half back and we somehow started chatting. I honestly can't remember how the introduction process went exactly, just that we got wind of each other, started IMing and all was well. Now they're both regulars and people I consider real friends. What was funny that we had never actually shook hands. It's pretty weird how IMing and Facebook photo albums have the ability to make you feel totally familiar with someone but it does.

One of them Jennie (hi Jennie!) picked me up (because everyone else was working) and we went home and gallivanted the DC landscape. We drove in to Alexandria from Arlington and she was patient with all of my missionary ramblings

"we used to tract in there all the time! And we contacted people in that CVS all the time! We weren't allowed to be here after night fall by ourselves, the elders yelled at us once about it........ And that's where I met Roberto. I met him at the metro and 3 weeks later he was passing the sacrament. And we broke down there once and that's where we accidentally went outside the mission"

Would. not. shut. up. And she, in her sleep deprived, medical student with a looming 15 page paper due super sweet way, heard me and we had a lovely proper time.

We grabbed lunch at this Italian place in Old Town Alexandria complete with a quiet back room (that I'm sure was where secret documents were exchanged at some given point) and stogie smoking man in front.

We attempted to hang out at Mt. Vernon but it was this plantation and the actual house was like a mile hike in and it cost $15 and we only had about an hour to do it all, so we just gave ole Georgie a salute. He knows we care, and we headed off to GLADYS KNIGHT

Now - I should tell you...

Two weeks ago Patrick and I went to one of the coolest concerts on the planet. It was called the Hotel Cafe Tour. The Hotel Cafe is this music joint on Cahuenga that is a singer/songwriter zone only. Some of the best acts in town are regulars. Like, imagine the Garden State soundtrack artists having a get together every night - Yeah. Hotel Cafe.

So... anyways. A few of these guys decided to get a single band together and a bus and shack up for 6 weeks and go on tour - hence Hotel Cafe Tour. I was looking for tickets for William Fitzsimmons sometime in January and I came across this gig and started looking at the bill and my jaw kept dropping lower and lower and lower with the names. Cary Brothers, Sara Barilles, Priscilla Ahn, Joshua Raiden, Greg Laswell, Meiko, Ingrid Michaelson, Dan Wilson all of these people along with William Fitzsimmons I had been joyfully listening to were all going to be in one place at one time. Needless to say I WAS EXCITED and the show was one of the single best shows I've ever been to. It's a post all its own, but one of the people who just shone through all of these acts was Ingrid (and that's saying something). Dude - she did a version of "Creep" on a ukulele and it was hauntingly beautiful.

I found out Ingrid was playing George Washington University the weekend I was going to be in DC so I hit up Christian and essentially said

"WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo. Its only $15 and WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo "

and he said

"Well..... I already have these Gladys Knight tickets.... and they're free."

So I said OK, a bit disappointed that I was going to be giving up Ingrid for the Motown Choir and stuff but still super excited to spend time with Christian and to visit the Alexandria Stake Center (one of my old areas).

But I properly repented after this show. It. Was. AWESOME. That little Gladys is one powerhouse of a woman. I can't remember feeling the spirit more strongly when someone was singing "I am a Child of God" and listening to hers and her husband's conversion stories and testimonies was amazing and uplifting, not to mention funny and refreshing. If you ever have a chance to catch her and her choir - DO. I really owe Christian for taking me.

Jennie didn't stay for the show, she went home to cuddle up to her paper so I was trusted to Christian's care and we went back to his place and I met his crew including his HLP. This is the Heterosexual Life Partner. They're rather affectionate best friends that ... happen to have... public... tickle fights...... and tell each other.... how hot they are.... and stuff. I dunno. It gets a bit creepy if I think about it too much so I'm not going to. I'll just say - I've heard about him from more than one person and how he had the nickname "Greek god" on his mission (given to him by the members) and his 6' 8" Ivy League basketball playing self. He is an individual that is hard to miss and did fall going up Christian's basement steps because his size 22 feet didn't fit on the stairs. I wasn't used to someone being so quiet that was a good friend of my cousins though. That was a bit out of character. We're all pretty vocal in our circles so I'm still not sure what to make of him but - yes I've met the HLP.

A few weeks before, with the help of the HLP, Christian's church basketball team won the Stake championship and someone recorded it and Chris wanted to watch it that night. So yes - I sat in my cousin's basement and watched a recording of a church basketball game. That's how much I love my cousin. And honestly, it wouldn't be a family type trip without some kind of sporting event. At one point (in the game) Christian got heated and did the guerrilla arm thing at the ref and I said "There he is! There's my Chris!" because that's how I remember most of his high school games. At least that's the point where things got interesting at those games. We watched Hot Rod after that. This has become canon in family circles and I had yet to see it and for the parts that I was awake enough and energetic enough for I laughed and laughed. It's a strange feeling to find something totally hilarious, not have the energy to laugh, but desperately want to. It's a funny funny funny flick.

That night I crashed in the love sack at the ladies house, very grateful for a soft place and good people to lean on but mostly totally amazed and comforted at how everything still felt like home.

....tbc

A-Pitter-Patter

I think I really need to marry Steve Colbert.

If we all had these kind of negociating skills the world would be a much better place.
And he pulled it all off in a suit no doubt.
One word. Hotness -

Wonder of Wonders!

Today is a VERY good day!
Lemme tell you why -

Background:
When I was a missionary in Washington DC my roommates (for the majority of my mission) were the Vietnamese speaking sisters. Consequently, we got to share a lot of the cultural perks that they had because of their call. Namely spring rolls, purple sticky rice, a lovely array of stuffed animals, many beautiful moon cakes they always brought home from tracting, and many fantastic stories. See - when they went knocking on doors they would rarely get in and/or effectively communicate with who they found but their call was to serve all the Asian people in the DC area but they only spoke English and efforted Viet. It's a tough language and very few people they taught were actually Vietnamese. So it was mostly a game of charades and a lot of nodding. However, all the Asian people they came across were a lovely, gracious and respectful for the most part. So even when they didn't let them in they gave the Chis a little gift. It happened a lot to us too. Hence why I still call tracting "trick or treating". There were so many different kinds of Asian people around it was a bit hard to keep track but I got a fabulous education. There were Cambodian, Laotian, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, Thai, Mongolian you name it - they all lived in DC and they all fell under the responsibilities of the Chis (pronounced like "cheese" - its Viet for "sister"). It was good times -

Anyways -
When we all got to go shopping on P-days we would go where the Chis could meet people too (cause it was kind of hard). So we landed in a lot of Asian commerce centers and found these adorable Korean doo-hicky shops that were like music/stationary/candy/insurance stores. I LOVED them. LOVE really - that is still a present tense condition. I loved everything in those little closet stores. The stationary, the pens, the gimicky candy and character erasers. I have been a HelloKittyphile since conception really. Those little spring loaded pencil boxes still bring me unbeknownst joy and there was enough cuteness combined with functionality to wipe me of my monthly stipend if I let myself go. The one luxury that I did allow myself was a few of the .99 cent pens. Your pen, as a missionary, is like your second companion. I grew to not just love these pens, but they became a part of me. They were adorable, original, had ink that instantly dried and smelled like fruit and were macro tips (0.38mm) and wrote so smoothly. For my handwriting they were my perfect pen. They made my day easier and always made me smile. I loved them. I really did.

When the time approached for me to come home I wasn't sure I'd find an adequate supply back home so I bought two cases of them in hopes that they would last me till I could find a store that had them again. I staged a valiant campaign when I got home to find a Korean stationary/children's clothing/BBQ /jewelery store but alas - to my dismay, nothing. After my first year home I ran out of pens and didn't know where to find them again and began another search for a pen that did it's job as well for me as my Korean ones. As an English major and someone who lives in their planner pens are very important - I use them all the time and they're one of those things that I am always very aware of. I don't know. I'm weird I suppose.

I settled on the RSVP (0.05mm) pens awhile back and they do an entirely adequate job - don't get me wrong. They keep my hair up nicely when I need them to too, but I still missed my super-awesome-nothing-like-it-ever-ever Korean pens.

Until today -

Right down the block from my work is this lovely Korean supermarket Vons thing. I decided to duck in on my lunch because my friend is having a bad week and has a weakness for these Japanese starburst candy things so I ventured in for the first time ever today looking for some to cheer her up. I didn't find any but all along the inside perimeter of this store were a number of these random tiny little kiosk stores just like in DC!!!

My heart stared racing and I frantically started looking around for a storefront with way too much pink and possibly overstuffed pillows. And there it was -

Happy Young Art America II

There - written in soft pink neon and adorned with puffy backpacks and water bottles in every adorable animal shape possible was my new favorite place. A taste of my DC home. I had found my new fount of functional adorableness and, most importantly, that my pens were just footsteps away.

The sweet girl at the counter, Lily, didn't speak a lick of English but I started talking her ear off anyway telling her how glad I was to see her and thank you owning this store and never to close and I will be a weekly visitor and if I could buy her lunch and pronounced blessings on her and her family and her family back home and any family she might have in the future - and where were the pens? The last part was achieved with mostly pantomime and some objects -

Picked up a random pen
pointed at tip
made the very small gesture with my fingers and pointed to black pen and she got it!

I love the universal language.

She showed me and it was all I could do to not give her a pick-you-up-off-the-floor-hug.
I promptly bought 5, dumped all my extra change in the "leave a penny take a penny" thing, and pretty much skipped out of the store and into a whole new world. One where I had my pens back.
*
Thats why today is a VERY good day.

*please forgive my not-a-scrap-of-make-up-on picture. Just focus on the pen