One down, three to go.

I must admit, graduate school didn't seem like that daunting of a task when I first applied. I didn't think it would be like going back to third grade or anything, but I underestimated what it takes to excel in a program like this. All of the people I've met this semester have been nothing short of impressive. Very impressive. It's not intimidating per se, but I know I have a lot of hard work to do to keep up.

Nearly six months ago, I got on the B30 bus from BWI airport in Baltimore, hopped onto a train at Greenbelt station and spent an amazing two and a half months at my summer job on the University of Maryland campus. Months later, as an official Maryland resident, I found myself completely and utterly lost driving back and forth past Greenbelt station looking for my hairdresser's salon. Needless to say, I missed my appointment. I've traveled roads and rails in the DMV so often that now, I can find my way to Greenbelt without even using a map. I drove past UMD last night on my way home from DC; feeling nostalgic, I tried to head to the reflecting pool in the center of campus- it was my favorite spot this summer. I forgot, though, that I used to maneuver that campus in a golf cart, and my Altima couldn't whip through posts and over sidewalks quite as easily. I guess when you grow up and move on, coming back "home" isn't always so easy. What once used to be familiar has become the way I used to do things, and new routines have taken the place of "normal."

The independence and confidence I gained during this summer were so important in succeeding on my own here in the DMV. My coworkers went from complete strangers to like-family in no time flat. I was myself and made no apologies or accommodations for the sake of others. During the semester it wasn't as easy to be on my own, no friends or real family around to fall back on. But, I had already become comfortable in my own skin, and soon realized that I didn't need any one to vouch, speak, or explain for me. I was just, Celeste...and, what do you know? I made friends just fine.

Life's happening you guys. I think why I didn't realize that grad school would be so hard is because I've never known any one very personally who went through that experience. So, I just saw it from afar and clapped with the crowd when they got hooded. But it's real, and I'm here. There are so many slogans about making the most of your day and living each like it's your last. To me, we've done a terrible job at that because we assume that means don't sleep, work hard, get rich, and die. What about taking time for phone calls to old and new friends, or saying your prayers every night, or enjoying a cookie and milk? It's simple, and seems petty, but I put as much importance on doing well in grad school as I do in being present in every moment. In six months, when I look back on today that reflection will mean as much to me as it did to drive past UMD yesterday, and being able to tangibly measure just how far I've come.

Deliberate. That's my word for 2011. Forget new year's resolutions- everything I do and every decision I make will be done with deliberate thought and action. That's the only way to make sure I'm experiencing every moment for everything it's worth. It's been real folks- see you next semester. Happy New Year. Make a choice.

Poetry.

I know it's been a while. The end of the semester is upon us and I have been doing my due diligence to do well on finals, but I did have time to finish a poem FINALLY! Such a relief...

Check it out at Down in the District.

Grad school makes me talk to myself

I don't really have anything that interesting to talk about. If you're still reading after that last sentence, I truly appreciate it and I want you to know that I started drinking coffee. Don't get alarmed. It's only a cup or two, here or there, but mostly when I'm in the library. Thus far it's been an iced vanilla latte from Starbucks, iced Coffee of the Day from Starbucks, hot Coffee of the Day from Starbucks, and a hot vanilla coffee from, that's right, you guessed it, Dunkin' Donuts. I don't know if it's just me, but they all tasted exactly the same.

In other news, I also figured out that I am a poet who struggles with words. For those of you who saw me perform (via Internet or live) my first spoken word, you'd think I had even some semblance of skill. But, no. Alas, that was my one-hit wonder, my Tardy for the Party, if you will. And, dammit I am PISSED. I have about three or four poems I've been working on recently and they just won't GO. I keep watching old Def Poetry Jams and realizing how UNlikely it is that I'll ever be on that show (despite the fact that it's canceled, but you know what I'm saying). Whatever, this isn't me fishing for compliments. I'm just typing here. Everyone is either asleep or tweeting. #notinterested Honestly, it's late, I just wrote an essay and I don't have it in me to start studying for another subject at 1:30 in the morning. If I start, I won't want to stop until I'm done. And if I don't get ample sleep, I'm going to be cranky and unfocused tomorrow. Or, maybe I can just drink more coffee.

The Greatest of All Time...of ALL TIME!

During NSLC this summer, my coworkers and I had an interesting conversation in the cafe of the Smithsonian Gallery of Art about what ONE song we could listen any time, any day, any circumstance. To me, that's an unfair question. I probably have about 30 of those. These are the ones that, if I'm having a bad day, will automatically lift my spirits. As soon as the beat drops, it's a 'hands-in-the-air-eyes-closed-singing-at-the-top-of-my-OMG-I'm-driving!' kind of moment.I had to narrow it down somehow, so I picked the 17 songs that I could fit on a standard CD.

In no particular order, Celeste's All-Time Favorite songs (ask me this in 2011, and I may have an entirely different list):

Get Me Bodied, Beyonce Knowles
Apart from the lyrical and musical genius of this track (penned by Solange, and delivered flawlessly by Queen B), Get Me Bodied triggers some of my best college memories. This song was one of the first strolls my line sisters and I did. During our neo-victory-lap semester, our ENTIRE chapter did this stroll at a party and split the crowd right down the middle. Every time I hear this song, it's summer 2007 all over again. And yes, I still do the stroll when I hear it on the radio...driving or not.


Sunday Morning, Maroon 5
"Fingers trace your every outline/paint a picture with my hands/back and forth we sway like branches in a storm/change the weather still together when it ends" For those of you who've never been in love, I would say that this song is one of the best depictions of what it actually feels like. It's a happy, secure feeling- just as upbeat and steady as this track's tempo, and you yearn to be with that person more than anything, even if it's just driving slow around town on a Sunday morning. Also, this song is featured in one of my favorite movies, Something’s Gotta Give. So yeah, absolute winner.

Refuge, John Legend
Ok, honestly- his voice can make the Itsy Bitsy Spider sound like a masterpiece. I would argue that Get Lifted is one of the greatest RnB albums of ALL time...of ALL time (Kanye voice). Depending on the day, any song from that album could make this list. But, more often than not, it’s Refuge.

One Last Cry, Bryan McKnight
Probably one of the best love songs ever. We all know Bryan can sing- this isn't even about that. I have a special connection to this one. Watch my performance on my other blog (celesteaurora.blogspot.com) and you'll get it.


I Am The One, Kurt Carr
We performed this when I was in the choir at Antioch Missionary Baptist Church in Orlando. It reminds me to be grateful for EVERYthing that God has done for me and brought me through. He is a way-maker.

Circle, Marques Houston
I love this song partially because of his physique and the foot move he does in the music video, and partially because of the empathy I have for a situation like this. Been there, and done with that. But, it doesn't hurt to sing about it.

Neither One of Us (Wants to Be The First to Say Goodbye), Gladys Knight and the Pips
It's probably from listening to my parents' 'Solid Gold' collection that got all of the Motown classics ingrained in my mind forever. My dad always quizzed my sister and me when we listened to the oldies "A-whoa! Yuh know is who sing dis? I give yuh a dolla...first person to tell me who sing dis." There are a lot of classics but, this one stands out for me because seriously, who can beat Gladys' voice and the passion she exudes in this song? Not many. Now I want a Midnight Train to Georgia.

Stay With Me, Ne-Yo feat. Peedi Crack
In my humble opinion, Ne-yo has never topped this track. It was his first single and after this one, every song sounds exactly the same! I don't know how he's managed to accomplish that and still sell records but hey, if it ain't broke...Regardless, I love the lyrics of this song and also the way he talks about music as the love of his life. That's something I can definitely relate to.

If, Destiny’s Child
As easy as they make it sound, this is a TOUGH song to sing. How do I know? If my car seats could talk, they'd tell you it's a great thing that I've never performed this in front of actual people. But I sing it, anyway. Wrong and strong.

Made Up My Mind, Lyfe Jennings
“Do they really think they can pull the wool over your eyes Lord?/do they really think that by fakin’ it they can claim that they will get the same reward?” It took a convict and his guitar to get through to me that you have to walk by the word, and not with the world. Sue me. The song is brilliant and heartfelt.

Never Let Me Down, Kanye West feat. Jay-z and J-Ivy
Not only is this one of my all-time favorites, but my absolute favorite track of Kanye's, as well. Yeezy, you may be cocky, but you speak truth. This was back when Kanye was still super excited that he finally became the Louis Vuitton Don, and the enthusiasm and passion for his message is heard when he spits bar after bar after bar on a single breath. Then he gasps for air just to continue the verse. Jigga was great on here too, but J-Ivy probably had the most poignant phrases on this one. "So I guess I’m one of a kind in a full houe, cuz whenever I open my heart my soul or my mouth a touch of God rains out.” What?! Classic.

Tell Him, Lauryn Hill
If you claim to love hip-hop or RnB, and you don't love this album...well, I pretty much will never value your opinion on music ever again. Amidst all the doo-wop'in, rapping, and heavy bass-beating tracks on this album, there are a few gems of just Lauryn's angelic voice softly singing what her heart feels but can’t say. The track is stirring- the first time I heard it, I had chills and replayed it at least 5 times. Tell Him is Lauryn, a drum, a guitar, and a few fleeting appearances of a backup choir. That's it. Her voice twists and turns through the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians and over her own words to express that above everything else, if she loves the Lord, "everything's gonna be alright." Beauty.

Bartender, T-Pain
Umm, can’t really explain this one. The melody is great. The lyrics, at times, crass. But, I love it anyway. This one was an instant favorite the very first time I heard it. Kinda like love at first sight.

Every Little Bit Hurts, Alicia Keys
I first heard this song when I saw Alicia's mTV Unplugged special. The audience got into it, and she looked like she was having the time of her life. The hoarse crooning that has become signature Alicia is perfect on this song- it's almost as if she's been crying and yelling at her man all day just to find out why he treats her this way. And when Alicia begs to know "why you treat me cold, yet you won't let me go" you feel every little bit that hurts.

Song Cry, Jay-Z
Another mTV Unplugged performance that will remain in my memory. Do you remember it? He just sat there nodding his head to the beat for a while after the lyrics ended. I think it was after seeing that performance when I finally appreciated Jay-Z’s musical talent. Now I’m on the bandwagon with Barack and the rest of ‘em.



I Wrote This Song, Monica
I'm not really a crier...most of the time. However, knowing the story behind this song and hearing how candid Monica gets in her lyrics can certainly bring a tear to my eye...or to my chin. Yeah, so what? The man took his life in front of the love of his life. That's serious stuff. And the song is brutally honest- Monica says it's hard for her to understand, so she wrote him this song. At the root of it, that's what music is all about. It expresses the inexpressible, helps you rationalize confusion. Monica gets two thumbs up for this one.

I Love You, Cheri Dennis
I think it's the bridge that does it to me. This song wasn't as heavily rotated as it should have been (I blame Diddy), but it is a really catchy song. Cheri's voice is sweet and the music is light-hearted. Nothing special, just a well-written, well-sung typical RnB track. Simple, but not simplistic.

Heartburn, Alicia Keys
This song reminds me of Madison, because we went to the Beyonce/Alicia/Missy concert together and Alicia opened her set with this one. We went WILD! It will get even the stiffest, surliest of people tapping their foot and singing along.


Forever, Lil Mo feat. Fabolous
Have you ever been in the room when a bunch of girlfriends start singing this song? Some take the top, the rest do the harmony and background- (usually it's me on the Neptune-sound). And then, when Fabolous' verse comes in, one person, the one who knows all the words, takes lead, and everyone else becomes a hype man at a rap concert- just hittin' the last few words of each line "tan on.....pants on...". It's a hot mess, and it is SO much fun. And besides, what girl doesn't fantasize about her wedding day, or proposal day? At LEAST once we've thought about it. At LEAST! Right? Exactly- classic.


What's on your list? Download some of my favorite tracks here:

Date Night

One of my best friends had a simple wish for my birthday this year. She asked me to do what I want to do, and say what I want to say, and not make any excuses for it. No more over-analyzing, and no more waiting. Just do. So today, I did.

I wanted to see The Social Network and was at home not being nearly as productive as I had originally planned for this 24-hours. My BlackBerry Movies app said I had forty minutes to make the 8:20pm showing at a theater 20 minutes away. After a quick outfit change (since I was still in my sweats), I found myself an aisle seat before the opening credits started.

I was initially nervous/afraid/worried about my personal date night, but it really wasn't intimidating. I didn't have to entertain any small talk, nor try to uncomfortably maneuver over the armrest to cuddle with someone. I was completely at ease and it was nice to do things just the way I like it. Even when I spilled some of my popcorn, I shrugged it off and laughed at my never-ending clumsiness, and kept shoveling handfuls of the buttery goodness in my mouth. I don't think I stopped the hand-to-mouth motion until the bag was completely empty.

The movie was very entertaining, in case you're wondering. But even more importantly, being alone and not feeling lonely was a new and very reassuring feeling. I put on an oldies radio station on my way home, and when Tracks of My Tears came on, I sang along with Smokey and the crew. Since I can't always count on having substitutes, I've decided to enjoy the company of Celeste. She's the permanent one, and that's just fine with me.

The Social Network...can I get one?

I'm supposed to be writing right now. Wait, I meant studying. Clearly, my mind is not where it should be (focused on the four elements of risk assessment). It's been an interesting weekend, to say the least. Wait, stop right there. The most I can do for myself to hold on to my happiness is to stop dwelling on the bad sh*t that happens and get the hell over it. Did you see that? HAPPiness is only half of what HAPPens. The rest, I believe, is how you react to it.
I was really about to write this post about some pretty depressing stuff, but I am alive, and breathing without mechanical assistance. I need to quit complaining. I have a story slash concern on the following topic: meeting women.

The concern:
1. Let's be clear. I am sexually, emotionally, physically, romantically, and everythingelse-ly attracted to men.

But, every day I am realizing more and more, especially in the public health field, men do not rule the world. My issue is: how am I supposed to build a network of lady contacts in the first place? There is a pretty solid group of ambitious and friendly black women at my school, I'd say we're about 15 strong- we go by 'GDubb SistaCircle', so coined by the resident Bison among us. The group pretty much formed through varying degrees of separation, random encounters in class, and introductions of the newbies (like me) to the rest of the crew. It's just like high school- "Did you finish this project yet? No? Me either; meet me in the library. I'm at a table with my friend, you can sit with us." Bam, contact.

So I'm set with a crew for time spent at 23rd and I street. But, what about off-campus? People keep telling me, when I mention that I'm in D.C. for grad school, that I need to build my network and take advantage of all the connections that I can make. Part one, I don't like "taking advantage" of people. I've done it, sure. And people have done it to me, but that doesn't make it right. I know that some people will never make it to true friend status, and will always hold a certain place in my life- the role of 'resource-friend'. Need tickets for a sold out event? Call the resource-friend who works for the sponsoring organization. Can't find the study guide you SWEAR you saved on your external harddrive? BBM the resource-friend who always takes notes and ask her to email them. The list of favors can go on and on. I think it's important to be genuinely concerned with the resource-friend's well-being, and ask them how they're doing (and actually listen attentively to the answer) before you ask them for a quick favor. But again, you have to have some resource-friends in your contacts list before you can use them to your advantage. That's where my problem lies.

The story:
This Friday, the Black medical and law student associations from Georgetown, George Washington, and Howard Universities held a mixer at The Park on 14th. The Black Public Health Student Network, of which I am a member, also made it on to the guest list, so two of my new friends from school and I were absolutely and fashionably in attendance. It was a nice event- quality dj playing music loud enough to hear, but low enough to talk over; delicious crab cakes (and by crab, I mean salmon..but if I said salmon cakes first, you all wouldn't have gotten it, right?); liberally-pouring bartenders, and handsome black men in fly skinny suits. There were a lot of women there, too. No ladies were really giving the stank face to each other like you might expect to see when cliques of black women gather (in separate, but equally judgmental groups) in one place. Everyone was friendly, and actually saying excuse me before trying to squeeze between you and the bar stool to get back to her group of friends. But that was just it- unless we were talking to dudes, or the women we came with, none of the ladies socialized. I guess in a setting like that one, where more winks were exchanged than business cards, it's tough for women to approach each other on a strictly networking/business/resource-friend tip. I've read before that meeting new female friends is just like meeting new dudes. Smile, say hi, and pay a compliment(copyright of that process goes to Belle Woods). In my humble opinion- that's super awkward. I mean, sure, you and your friends look nice and you're here at a professional/student mixer so, I'm assuming we have SOMETHING in common- but to just go up and say hi? No, I'm not ready for the networking world if that's what it takes. What about, gulp, rejection?

I can handle a guy not being interested. I've given a fake name or a mean mug to enough men not to question when karma bites me in the ass and stomps on my ego. The chance I take on saying hi to a good looking gentleman is a risk I don't mind taking. If it plays out well, I may leave with a new number in my phone, or at least entertain a good conversation (because once I say hi, if you have nothing to talk about, I'm walking away). But, when it comes to meeting women (esp black women) for potential resource-friends or even real friends, I have always felt unsure about how to approach and start conversation. Are we supposed to act like homegirls because we're fellow 'sistas'? What if they make a reference to something I can't relate to? They're gonna think I'm a square, when really my inquisitiveness (and sometimes cluelessness) is one of my most endearing traits! I have such a respect for successful black women, I'd act like I would in a room full of Ben Carsons or Kanye Wests. I wouldn't even know what to say or how to act. I'm just in awe and hoping I don't make a fool of myself.

The unrealistic solution:
This is obviously a pretty peculiar predicament. If I wanted to network with women, here's what I would do. I'd invite to my house a bunch of friends who don't know each other, and tell them to bring one female friend. We'd eat a healthy but hearty meal, where the important, educated, and business conversation would take place. Then, we pop 1 (or four) bottles of moscato, champagne or the like, and play a raucous game of Taboo. Business cards will be exchanged, iPhones will be bumped, and Blackberry barcodes will be scanned. The night ends with everyone being handed back their keys, (because my caterer stopped serving alcohol well before people needed to drive home) and people work on fostering the new relationships from there. Some may never speak again, some may become best friends. And, some may enter the resource-friend box. Either way, a night specified for networking goes down, and everyone leaves with at least the potential for a new friend.

So, I guess until I have my own home in which to host this dinner party of a lifetime, it's gonna be awkward moments at a mixer, avoided conversations and neglect of a potential great contact- OR I could get over it and find an appropriate, cool, non-awkward way to say hey to a fellow empowered female.

Any suggestions?

Arite man, Eggs! I'll call her, 'Eggs'. **

So I missed my exit on the way home from the Wheaton Metro stop today. I've made the drive at least 6 times now, so I'll chalk it up to my self-diagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder, rather than STILL not having my bearings in my new town. However, the mishap (and lengthy drive) did allow me the opportunity to ponder my 'Before I Get To Medical School Bucket List. It's still a work in progress, but this is as complete as it's been thus far. So, here goes:

- Figure out how I like my eggs
Now, I love omelettes as much as the next girl. And, if I do say so myself, I make a pretty mean omelette when I have time and a non-stick pan on my side. I usually take mine with onions, tomato, A LITTLE bit of cheddar cheese, ham, bacon, green and banana peppers. But, every time I watch Runaway Bride and watch Julia Roberts in that scene with all the different kinds of eggs on the counter, trying to figure out who she really is and how she likes her eggs, I get a little jealous. I don't even know what eggs benedict tastes like. So, before I can truly claim omelettes as my absolute fave, I need to try them all first.

-Get home from downtown D.C. without using my GPS
This one needs very little explanation.

-Skydive
-Learn how to
cook Oxtail, Brown Stew Chicken, Ackee and Saltfish, and Jerk Chicken...well
This is partially me wanting to be able to enjoy some quality Jamaican food without buying it or waiting for my family to cook for me. And the other part is that I will have to ask for help from my family members to learn all these recipes, so it will encourage me to spend a little more time with the folks. This one's a win-win.

- Get thick.
This is actually something I WON'T do, if Mother Nature obliges. Now, this is nothing against my above size-six-wearing sisters in the world. We weren't all bodacious-ly blessed, and I must say, I have always been made fun of for my butt- (or lack thereof). You all probably never faced those jokes, and happily did 'the thick girl' when the song came on at parties. But, I would like to maintain my figure as long as humanly possible because I have been accustomed to being this size for the past 22 years and I like what I see when I look in the mirror. So I guess no matter what size I get to, as long as I can say that, I have accomplished my goal. Skinny black girls, this one's for you!

- Perform in D.C. at Busboys and Poets
This is a continuation of my last bucket list's goal, to perform at an open mic night. There are too many opportunities for a budding spoken word artist not to get a little taste of the bright lights and tiny stage. Let's hope last time wasn't just beginner's luck.

- Volunteer at least once a month
There are way too emails flooding my inbox with ways I can get involved for me to ignore. I participated in an Obesity Awareness Month event last Friday at the Children's Hospital, so I'm already off to a great start.


- Go to a Yeezy concert
Now, anyone who knows anything about me knows that I absolutely love and fully and completely support Kanye West. Mic-grabbing and all. Anyways, I have seen my fair share of the Queen B and Mr. Legend (the two other musicians I adore) on the stage, and it is time for me to truly earn my position as Kanye's biggest fan/play-wife and see him in concert. Twice I have been thwarted by a "friend" of mine (I hope you're reading this) who stood me up in buying tickets for the concert (both the Late Registration and Graduation tours). Then, he slipped in conversation a couple days after the concerts that "Oh yeah, I was there. He was great." Twice! My fault. But, I will go solo dolo if necessary. Nothing is stopping me this time.

- Go to Europe
Whether it's study abroad, a random trip with friends or a secret spy mission for the Secret Service, I need to get there. I feel like I'm missing out on a lot by not having been across the pond. I'll try and save Italy for my honeymoon like I've always planned but hey, if the pizza's calling my name, I can't make any promises.

- Go to Africa
'nough said. I need to go.

- Get Mrs. Obama to invite me to dinner at the White House/sit next to Sasha O. at the dinner table
You all may think this is a lofty goal, but I believe that if I do what I'm supposed to do in grad school and truly make an impact here in D.C., I'll be a shoe-in.


I think that's it for now, folks. I will add more to the list as I think of them. Hopefully putting all of this out in the open will hold me accountable. I have some more that are a little more personal goals, and I have written those down, too. Have any of you started working on a bucket list?

**If you're a TRUE fan of The Game, you'll remember this quote. Are we excited for its return, or what?

I talk to Myself, cuz at least she's always there.

One ring, two rings
Screened. So what?
I go down the list of contacts and decide to put the phone up
Far, in a purse. Way upstairs.
Just gonna "charge" it for a while- but then I avoid going back up there.
And as I watch TV I'll mute it- was that...did I just hear?
Knowing damn well that's not my ringtone- you know Weezy's voice ain't that clear!

Are you alone or feeling lonely? Didn't you choose to move this far?
You came to this new state with just your luggage and a car.
Not a friend or foe familiar; yes, even enemies would suffice
At least it's a taste of home, but every day you roll the dice:
Do I turn on the GPS, or try to find my way?
If I get lost is it a test, or a signal that I'm not ok?
Part of you wants to go home. That's why you call there all the time.
But when they return the call, you hit ignore. You don't want them to know your mind
Is not at ease. You're not at peace, but maybe tomorrow the mishaps will cease.
A bigger part of you talks to Jesus, "Lord, just be a friend."
"Be a jumper cable, be a church home, Lord, please be a refund check."
God, I'm asking you for guidance, be a traffic report on FM stations
Be a good meal, a fresh haircut
and Lord, please PLEASE give me some patience.

Cuz I know right now, though trying, will seem a distant memory one day
And things can't always be easy, so I'll try to look at things this way:

If I was not supposed to be here, this place would not exist
But here I stand on my two feet, breathing the code red air of the District
I wake up each day, renewed, say a prayer, "Is this the one?"
But I know it won't be suddenly. I'll find my place one day soon come.

www.nevertrustawebsite.com/baptistblunders

Sunday. A day for rest, reflection, and reverence. Or in my case, getting Punk'd. I've always wanted to be on that show- forget the fact that I'm not famous or friends with Ashton Kutcher- but never thought that I'd actually manage to punk myself. I haven't been to church all summer, and so I figured it was time to get back in the groove. I Google'd a bunch of churches throughout the week, and the only one I found with a Young Adult ministry ended up being the winner. I left the house on time, and Jeeves said I'd make it there with ten minutes to spare. Perfect- I didn't want to do the walk of shame, escorted by an usher to the front of the church because I'm late, on my first day. I made the 40 minute drive to Baltimore, and even though I got a little worried as I drove through the church's neighborhood, I saw plenty of cars parked on the street and said a little prayer that Sparkle would still be there (and not sitting on bricks) when I got back from service.

I walked into church wearing a knee-length dress, pearls, pumps, and Bible-less (I left mine in my old car when I moved). Things seemed a little off when I walked into the foyer; the doors to the sanctuary were closed, but there was only one other person standing there with me. I heard the congregation praying in unison, so I figured I was missing the responsive reading. Weird. It's kinda early for that part of the service, I thought. But hey, different strokes for different folks. I walked up to the deeply stained wood double-doors, and a tall, broad shouldered gentleman in a black suit opened it for me- I guess he was an usher but, he didn't seem to be concerned that I couldn't find a seat. Besides me and Big n Tall, no one else in my view was dressed in their Sunday best. I saw jeans, long peasant skirts, polos, t-shirts, sandals. What's going on here? OK, Ce. You're overdressed, but that's fine.I felt only moderately self-conscious. And still, no one was helping me find a seat!

I took a deep breath, and walked awkwardly down the left-most aisle, trying to stay inconspicuous. I circled pillars and side-stepped my way to the front, faking confidence and poise the whole time. I did that mime motion/church whisper ::eye contact...point:: "Is that seat taken?" to any one who would acknowledge my presence. I barely made eye contact with any one, and those who did see me quickly nodded and turned their attention toward the pulpit. The pastor, who I recognized from his picture on the website, was commending the Youth Choir for a job well-done in the service. Hmm, did I miss their opening number? It's only 11:30 and service started at 11am...that's weird.

Finally, someone with a nametag approached me. I again mouthed, "Can I sit there?" and directed her attention to an open seat in the second pew. She leaned in closer to hear me, but I thought she was trying to give me a welcome hug. I put my arm on her back and then, as she slyly pulled away, I rushed through my pre-planned "Good morning" and asked where I could sit. She just nodded and smiled. So, you didn't hear me? OK, cool. I heard the pastor say "let's look unto the Lord" so I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and then got REALLY confused. Am I hearing properly? Why was he doing to altar call at the beginning of the service? Isn't that usually reserved as the climax of the entire production? Praise and worship, a moving sermon, then an invitation to give your life to Christ, and/or to make this your church home. I'm new to the Baptist faith but, that's the way it goes, right? No new members were added to the kingdom or to the church family that morning, and I had no more time to go over the order of events. I resumed the seat-finding mission. Three more rejections, and I found a woman who was willing to move her suitcase-purse so I could sit down. I put down my keys and cellphone, and readied myself for the sermon, which I was sure would be coming soon.

"Now, it's time to worship through giving", the pastor said. OK, sweet, I brought offering today. I looked in the program I snagged earlier when Big n Tall let me in, and scanned for the order of events. Worship through Giving was immediately followed by Benediction. HUH?! I only had seconds to ponder this when my pew was ushered to the front of the church by a Cicely Tyson-sized woman in an all white skirt suit. I dropped my money into the basket, and scurried back to my seat trying to look like I knew exactly what I was doing. All of the elders at the front greeted me like I was a long-time member, and as welcome as I felt, I still had an inkling that the entire congregation knew something I didn't. It was like they were all waiting on the cue to jump up and start spraying me with silly string yelling "Got ya!", and then they'd high-five each other while I sat there confused and covered in gooey pink string. I checked the program again. No way I read that right. The benediction was next? Oh, but I did read correctly. Under 'This Week's Announcements', there it was "Next Sunday, we will return to 8:30am and 11:00am services." I flipped to the front of the program "August 29, 2010 9:30am Service." No. Way.

The pastor affirmed my hypothesis when offering was over: "Now church, you know we been spoiled this summer! Through most of July and all of August, we've had the luxury of these 9:30am services. But I know we will all, amen, be back in full swing next week when we resume two services each Sunday, amen. God-willing, I will be here leading both services; we got alotta great things planned for the rest of the year... " I missed most of the other announcements. Something about the Men's ministry first Friday get together, and a bake sale by the youth immediately following the service. So, I missed it. This is unbelievable! I drove forty minutes, got lost, found parking in the shiftiest of neighborhoods, and I totally missed church. But, humming "he reigns forever, he reigns forever, and eveerrrr mooorrrre", I got up and bowed my head again as instructed, ready for the benediction.

It's hard to justify being frustrated walking out of a church. I just shook the devil off, and kept it moving. I had errands to run anyway, and at least I got my blessing for the week. Another wacko adventure that only a rookie could accomplish. Greater Gethsemane, I'll be back next Sunday.

I Hit A Dumpster Today

Let me first make this disclaimer: Dad, if you're reading this, the story is ENTIRELY hypothetical.

Thursday started out wonderfully. After two months of hair disaster this summer, I finally left a hair salon smiling. Shortly after, when I got my eyebrows done, I looked like the *Big Smile* face on BlackBerry Messenger. So, feeling quite jazzy and confident, as sporting a fresh hair-do and a pretty dress usually makes me feel, I journeyed down to school for a Grad Life fair, a welcome from President Steven Knapp, and of course, free barbecue. I won't even pretend to claim that I am learning my way around the District. Just when I think I can predict my next move without prompting, Jeeves (my GPS) starts interrupting my radio: "Off-route. Recalculating. Recalculating. When possible, make a U-turn". Next thing I know, I'm at some other school with 'George' in its name, and a security guard is telling me to either show ID or leave the property.

Eventually, I did find a parking space, and popped into the grad life fair for some free pens and a wealth of suggestions on how to get involved. This was one of my primary goals that day, besides networking, so I felt like my 45 minute trek to campus was well worth it. The welcome from the President, and pinning ceremony for new graduate students, was a great way to begin my school year. I was nervous about being a new student, and I desperately want to feel like "one of them". But, it was stressed by everyone who addressed us that we are now and will forever be George Washington Colonials. I went over to the President and President-elect of the GW Alumni association to introduce myself and let them know how eager I am to become involved. Networking? Check!

Successful day! I thought to myself...after a plate of free food, I dipped out early to attend an "open house". I pulled up to the rowhouses somewhere in Northeast D.C., and saw a lady sitting on the stoop looking quite dejected and unbearably bored. As I walked up the steps, which were covered with leaves and dirt, I focused hard keeping a straight face, even though I wanted to scrunch it up in disgust. Was this guy serious? You actually put this place up for rent? You didn't even sweep the walkway, sir! Oh, but he was serious, and his proxy was there to assure me that the place could be ready for move in Labor Day weekend, if desired. Dude, there are paint cans in the bedroom. The paper blinds you pasted to the wall are falling off the wall. I'll pass.

I finally got out of there and decided after a long day, it was time to head back to the patch of Maryland I (temporarily) call home. The last stop was for gas. I realized early on that driving on the highway in the DMV is a lot different than south Florida. There are mostly trees and corn fields everywhere, so I couldn't even rely on getting gas at "the next exit." I may likely be pushing the car to the pump. Jeeves was yelling at me to make a u-turn, and proceed to the highlighted route but there was a sign for $2.59 on my left, and I had to make a few illegal turns so as not to miss my unleaded calling. I maneuvered Sparkle into the gas station. OK, Ce. Whip it around, gas tank's on the left. Reverse. Keep going, a little closer, back it up again and- BAM! My heart sunk as I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw the dark green dumpster staring back at me. Dammit. I pulled forward, and heard the metal bumper pop back into place. I practically ran to the rear of the car as if I was on the way to save a life, and searched frantically for the dent or smear on the bumper. Nothing! Praise His name. OK, so time to gas up. I pushed the gas tank lever, whipped out the debit card and....where's the card thingy? NO CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED.

Really Washington?! Needless to say, I angrily closed the gas tank and sped off way over speed limit to find another gas station before I hit the highway. I finally found a BP, (they have better gas than the last place ANYway, I reassured myself), and got Sparkle some juice. I tried to stay mad, but the 5 o'clock RoadBlock mix on 92Q was playing the hits, and I couldn't help but laugh at my unfortunate circumstances of the day. So maybe I didn't find the perfect apartment, and maybe I haven't yet learned my way around the new city. But, my hair's fly, my car isn't dented, and I had a delicious free hotdog on Kogan Plaza while talking to a new friend. Life is good. And I won't complain.