Apartment? Check!

The rumors are true. I know, because I started them. Yes folks, after traversing nearly every apartment complex in the greater Hyattsville-College Park-and-Silver Spring area, after run-ins with sketchy landlords and unpleasant leasing agents, after being follow-up called by more property managers than I can count, the search is over. I got my own place!

Now that school and MCAT prep are underway, I'm glad to have some semblance of a routine back, because let me tell you, nothing makes me happier than a day that runs smoothly with a predictable routine. I'm not saying I like things to be uneventful; surely, since I've moved up here my experiences have been anything but typical. But, just like when we were kids, and we were used to changing into our after-school clothes, and having a snack before doing homework, there are certain things I need in my life to make me feel at ease. A major source of comfort for me is having a space to call my own. In this space, I can walk around wearing whatever I do or do not feel like wearing, I can and I will cook at all hours of the night, and finally, I'll be allowed to touch the thermostat. Getting my own place is going to be a huge adjustment, because although I've been home alone many times, I've never alone had my own home. Now, a College Park apartment is far from the home I grew up in, and I'll probably buy the cheap paper towels and save the fancy two-ply stuff for when I visit Weston. I'm still stoked about it, though. I am ending up right back to where this whole leaving-home-for-good journey all started. UMD-College Park will be right across the street, and being in a college town, with access to everything from IKEA to Buffalo Wild Wings all on the same street, is another huge comfort and reassuring element to this move.

I will only be about a 40-minute train ride away from school, too. That may sound like a lot, but considering I've made 40-minute drives to the train, to take a 40-minute Metro trip to school virtually every day since August 23rd, this is a MAJOR improvement. I was hoping to have a Super (Housewarming) Bowl Party, but that might be a little overzealous. For now, I'll settle for a weekend with my dad, who's coming up to help me lug my four suitcases and two trunks worth of clothes into my new spot.

As you can probably tell, I can't help but be excited for this new step. I have a countdown going and everything! I'm taking note of all these baby accomplishments that make me feel very much like a grown woman. Who knows, next time we meet, I may be in my after-school clothes eating a snack...and I'll feel right at home.

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.

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.