i have never felt more impatient in my entire life. this is new territory for me- a fairly patient person- to be so completely and utterly anxious.
how long does it take for 10 days of teaching to pass? approximately a lifetime is my guess.
during that lifetime, i'll give out word searches, subsist on a diet of tomatoes and m&ms, run like mad, and hit the sack at 10:30 every night to make the long nights pass more quickly.
this. literally. feels. like. crawling. through. unpleasantly. warm. molasses.
cross your fingers for me.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
18 days
may 30, 2009the season of beautiful sunsets is once again upon me. here's to something beautiful on days that are starting to blur together in my collection of "days my imagination has had to create its own beauty because my surroundings feel vapid, sullen, void."
one additional day of teaching down. 18 more to go.
summer, liveliness, faith and the restoration of beauty in places far far far away from here is 18 days of teaching away from me.
i will make it.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
acceptance
allow me to be excruciatingly honest today.
i am not thrilled by the prospect of having four weeks ahead of me to continue teaching. in fact, i've been rather bitter about this for the better part of two weeks. i am also not thrilled by having to teach on saturdays (not all of them). saturday classes invite an entirely new brand of unproductive time passage and frankly, i had a really tough time convincing myself to get up and moving this morning in time for my first class.
i made it, of course, but it was not easy.
the thing about this experience is that the working part of it never really ends. the teaching is part of the workload, sure, and it is by far the least amount of time i have ever spent at an official place of employment. the moment i leave the school building, i usually feel a sense of unbridled freedom because the rest of the day will most likely involve a lot of reading, running and keeping busy at doing nothing. until i remember i really never leave work. work follows me to uncomfortable conversations with pushy townsfolk and the grocery store (if you can call it that) and the cafe.
i spend much of my time, therefore, hiding. one of the primary reasons i'm grateful for my apartment is because of the amazing oasis of calm and silence and peace it provides me. i am not kidding when i say that my apartment is a large contributor to my ability to stay in this town and survive. there are more days than i will ever admit on this blog when i do not actually leave my apartment.
at one time, i felt really guilty about this. i do, after all, have oodles of free time to be 'driving' additional english courses at the municipality or playing with the kids or spending time over coffee and cigarettes with colleagues.
it's been 13 months now and i no longer feel any guilt.
what i am finally grasping onto one year into this is that my personality and its very unique interaction with this culture produces a result that looks slightly different than the peace corps expectations might suggest it should. the amalgamation and subsequent outcomes of who i am as a person, the incredibly tough site i've been assigned to, the culture, the nature of teaching and language learning plus many additional factors have been plaguing me for months and months and months. the resulting concoction is, to say the least, not what i had personally expected it to be, either.
expectations are menacing nuisances, ones that i am admittedly prone to creating. unlearning that wicked habit has been messy, infuriating and utterly exhausting.
the result of this inner battle, then, is me hibernating for days and weeks, often, in my solitude and in my running. the outcome is me effectively shutting out as much of the culture as is possible because i cannot muster up the energy to pretend i am 100% capable of fitting in. the outcome is me channeling every microscopic bit of energy inside of me to walk into my school building after the door has been blocked off from my entrance by a 9th grade boy. the outcome is dismantling, revamping, re-evaluating, scrutinizing further and then reconstructing the expectations that were set forth one year ago by me.
i have arrived at a new place. but the road has not been a smooth one.
so it is with this understanding of where i am right at this moment that i continue forward. this is what makes conversations like the one i had today with the only 10th grade student who showed up (who EVER shows up-- & i've written about him before) seem like priceless gold nuggets of joy in this place that, through its very different ideas of respect for women, for teachers, for one another can dampen a soul and quickly.
the student is a roma kid. i get strange looks when i talk about him with other colleagues. he is the student who flicked his cigarette at me before he ever gave my classes a chance. this is the same student who later told me to speak only in english to him.
during the most touching conversation i've had to date in this country, this student told me that every year he has been studying english (he's on year 7), he's ditched his english classes. he talked for nearly 45 minutes in english today, slowly and deliberately, about how much english he's learned from me. he wanted for me to know that he cannot believe he doesn't ditch the class anymore-- that he actually likes coming.
i was shocked. i'd heard teachers rarely, if ever, receive feedback of this nature. thus, my expectations effectively had me believing i would never, ever have a conversation like this while here.
i watched and listened to him speaking to me, speechless the entire time because everything inside of me wanted to cry. i wanted to cry because i was so happy- like i cried when i scored my first soccer goal as a litte girl and no one could understand why tears were running down my cheeks. i was unspeakably moved because the life i've been given is so strikingly different from the life this student has here and he understands that. he spent 45 minutes articulating how desperately he hopes to create something better for himself. he sees english as a way out, is working hard at improving and is getting it.
it has been one hell of a year. i finally can admit to myself that i will never be what the peace corps expectations dictate volunteers to be; letting go of this has been devastating, to say the least. however, letting go of such expectations has made room for new ones and allowed for such beautiful surprises like this conversation to completely move me.
i understand, after much time spent away from all things familiar, what it is i appreciate so much about the life i've been given, the people in it and all that i took for granted. most importantly, i am able to work my way through the slow days, harassment, disrespect, strange system, distant relationships and still see that a light exists at the end of the tunnel. along the way are kind people handing me flashlights to light my path.
if i have energy for nothing else apart from getting to the end of that tunnel, so be it. i will arrive at the end a different person as a result of having waged this war on my expectations and will be grateful to have completed it. perhaps this was my lesson to learn from this experience.
i accept that.
i am not thrilled by the prospect of having four weeks ahead of me to continue teaching. in fact, i've been rather bitter about this for the better part of two weeks. i am also not thrilled by having to teach on saturdays (not all of them). saturday classes invite an entirely new brand of unproductive time passage and frankly, i had a really tough time convincing myself to get up and moving this morning in time for my first class.
i made it, of course, but it was not easy.
the thing about this experience is that the working part of it never really ends. the teaching is part of the workload, sure, and it is by far the least amount of time i have ever spent at an official place of employment. the moment i leave the school building, i usually feel a sense of unbridled freedom because the rest of the day will most likely involve a lot of reading, running and keeping busy at doing nothing. until i remember i really never leave work. work follows me to uncomfortable conversations with pushy townsfolk and the grocery store (if you can call it that) and the cafe.
i spend much of my time, therefore, hiding. one of the primary reasons i'm grateful for my apartment is because of the amazing oasis of calm and silence and peace it provides me. i am not kidding when i say that my apartment is a large contributor to my ability to stay in this town and survive. there are more days than i will ever admit on this blog when i do not actually leave my apartment.
at one time, i felt really guilty about this. i do, after all, have oodles of free time to be 'driving' additional english courses at the municipality or playing with the kids or spending time over coffee and cigarettes with colleagues.
it's been 13 months now and i no longer feel any guilt.
what i am finally grasping onto one year into this is that my personality and its very unique interaction with this culture produces a result that looks slightly different than the peace corps expectations might suggest it should. the amalgamation and subsequent outcomes of who i am as a person, the incredibly tough site i've been assigned to, the culture, the nature of teaching and language learning plus many additional factors have been plaguing me for months and months and months. the resulting concoction is, to say the least, not what i had personally expected it to be, either.
expectations are menacing nuisances, ones that i am admittedly prone to creating. unlearning that wicked habit has been messy, infuriating and utterly exhausting.
the result of this inner battle, then, is me hibernating for days and weeks, often, in my solitude and in my running. the outcome is me effectively shutting out as much of the culture as is possible because i cannot muster up the energy to pretend i am 100% capable of fitting in. the outcome is me channeling every microscopic bit of energy inside of me to walk into my school building after the door has been blocked off from my entrance by a 9th grade boy. the outcome is dismantling, revamping, re-evaluating, scrutinizing further and then reconstructing the expectations that were set forth one year ago by me.
i have arrived at a new place. but the road has not been a smooth one.
so it is with this understanding of where i am right at this moment that i continue forward. this is what makes conversations like the one i had today with the only 10th grade student who showed up (who EVER shows up-- & i've written about him before) seem like priceless gold nuggets of joy in this place that, through its very different ideas of respect for women, for teachers, for one another can dampen a soul and quickly.
the student is a roma kid. i get strange looks when i talk about him with other colleagues. he is the student who flicked his cigarette at me before he ever gave my classes a chance. this is the same student who later told me to speak only in english to him.
during the most touching conversation i've had to date in this country, this student told me that every year he has been studying english (he's on year 7), he's ditched his english classes. he talked for nearly 45 minutes in english today, slowly and deliberately, about how much english he's learned from me. he wanted for me to know that he cannot believe he doesn't ditch the class anymore-- that he actually likes coming.
i was shocked. i'd heard teachers rarely, if ever, receive feedback of this nature. thus, my expectations effectively had me believing i would never, ever have a conversation like this while here.
i watched and listened to him speaking to me, speechless the entire time because everything inside of me wanted to cry. i wanted to cry because i was so happy- like i cried when i scored my first soccer goal as a litte girl and no one could understand why tears were running down my cheeks. i was unspeakably moved because the life i've been given is so strikingly different from the life this student has here and he understands that. he spent 45 minutes articulating how desperately he hopes to create something better for himself. he sees english as a way out, is working hard at improving and is getting it.
it has been one hell of a year. i finally can admit to myself that i will never be what the peace corps expectations dictate volunteers to be; letting go of this has been devastating, to say the least. however, letting go of such expectations has made room for new ones and allowed for such beautiful surprises like this conversation to completely move me.
i understand, after much time spent away from all things familiar, what it is i appreciate so much about the life i've been given, the people in it and all that i took for granted. most importantly, i am able to work my way through the slow days, harassment, disrespect, strange system, distant relationships and still see that a light exists at the end of the tunnel. along the way are kind people handing me flashlights to light my path.
if i have energy for nothing else apart from getting to the end of that tunnel, so be it. i will arrive at the end a different person as a result of having waged this war on my expectations and will be grateful to have completed it. perhaps this was my lesson to learn from this experience.
i accept that.
Monday, May 25, 2009
celebration!
i survived my longest run in the history of... well, maybe ever. 8 miles.
it took me approximately 83 minutes. i know, i am a slowwwww runner. there was one sneezing break.
i have been puking since i returned. i went at 1:30pm. returned just after 3. have been lying on the floor since.
marathon, here i comeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
here's to slowly building strength- both in running and in surviving here!
huzzah!
it took me approximately 83 minutes. i know, i am a slowwwww runner. there was one sneezing break.
i have been puking since i returned. i went at 1:30pm. returned just after 3. have been lying on the floor since.
marathon, here i comeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
here's to slowly building strength- both in running and in surviving here!
huzzah!
Friday, May 22, 2009
graduation
high school graduations in this country are held on school days.
mine was today.
outside on the basketball court/blacktop.
between 3rd and 4th period.
there was singing.
and flower divvying.
and plenty of people talking through it all.
and the sun was hotter than crap.
and to be honest,
the whole thing felt a tad rushed.
and the "graduates" (all six of them) were dressed...um...scantily.
(see: chalga star)
i wore my high heels for the big event. i had to rush home to dust them off after 2nd period because i had no idea whatsoever the blessed event was today.
it's good i live 2 minutes from my school.
ceremonies and ideas of propriety here baffle me.
showing up in a tank top with a front slit that stoops so low as to reveal your belly piercing is normal.
showing up without an odd number of flowers wrapped in plastic is blasphemous.
and when a colleague turns to you and says,
"wasn't that lovely? are your graduations this nice there (read: the States)?"
you think back to that black gown and cap you wore as you marched into the coors' event center in boulder, to the nearly 2-hour long ceremony...
and you answer, "well, they're just different" and move on with the day, reminding yourself this sort of cultural exchange is part of your duty here.
meh. i enjoyed the fact that after all the madness, classes were only 30 minutes long.
because i felt like doing absolutely nothing today. as did the kids.
and my refusal to write anything other than lines of text surely is proof of this.
ooh! but wait! tomorrow is the big parade of graduates through the center. where they show up in prom dresses and glitter holding (what else) flowers in plastic wrapping and take pictures of each other for at least an hour.
i am going! will post pictures.
mine was today.
outside on the basketball court/blacktop.
between 3rd and 4th period.
there was singing.
and flower divvying.
and plenty of people talking through it all.
and the sun was hotter than crap.
and to be honest,
the whole thing felt a tad rushed.
and the "graduates" (all six of them) were dressed...um...scantily.
(see: chalga star)
i wore my high heels for the big event. i had to rush home to dust them off after 2nd period because i had no idea whatsoever the blessed event was today.
it's good i live 2 minutes from my school.
ceremonies and ideas of propriety here baffle me.
showing up in a tank top with a front slit that stoops so low as to reveal your belly piercing is normal.
showing up without an odd number of flowers wrapped in plastic is blasphemous.
and when a colleague turns to you and says,
"wasn't that lovely? are your graduations this nice there (read: the States)?"
you think back to that black gown and cap you wore as you marched into the coors' event center in boulder, to the nearly 2-hour long ceremony...
and you answer, "well, they're just different" and move on with the day, reminding yourself this sort of cultural exchange is part of your duty here.
meh. i enjoyed the fact that after all the madness, classes were only 30 minutes long.
because i felt like doing absolutely nothing today. as did the kids.
and my refusal to write anything other than lines of text surely is proof of this.
ooh! but wait! tomorrow is the big parade of graduates through the center. where they show up in prom dresses and glitter holding (what else) flowers in plastic wrapping and take pictures of each other for at least an hour.
i am going! will post pictures.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
pedaling through
aside from a brief 5-minute time warp today, in which i aggressively tossed a bag and a student (well, i didn't toss him) out my open classroom door after having been told to "fuck off," the last few da -- err... this whole week-- has been one long, pleasant upswing from the deep dark abyss that was last week.
armed with the knowledge that i now have access to a sleek bike, i rallied the troops yesterday afternoon for a ride. my best friend here irina, a young neighbor/bike enthusiast named plamena and i set out just as the sun began to set for and adventure in my town and beyond.
turns out, i am not in shape. well, i can credit my running schedule for being more in shape than my fellow adventurers were. it would seem abstaining from smoking a pack a day and drinking sugar-saturated coffee between every class gives me a slight upper hand, too, even if i cannot curtail my chocolate consumption. i digress.
we managed to pedal ourselves a full 17 kilometers. i did not particularly mind that it took us three hours to ride said 17 kilometers because it was so glorious. glorious to see a new side of town. glorious to wind through dirt streets of a nearby village. glorious to meet an irish man and his wife who live year-round in this little village, who do not speak any of the local language and who need an english-speaking visitor from time to time. glorious, it was, to think about the bike i'll be inheriting in just a few short weeks-- to daydream about all of the far away destinations now within my reach because of this.
i think i'm on to something here. this bike riding idea holds much promise, and not just because i'm still secretly entertaining the idea of riding the danube with another volunteer (ah*matt*em)when this service is done and over with.
i am thrilled thrilled THRILLED by the prospect of the new possibilities opening before me. i feel increasingly able to fathom the daunting list of months ahead of me. i look forward to long summer days lost on quiet roads and in small villages, ebulliently pedaling my way through the ups and downs of this near-inconceivable experience.
WOO!
armed with the knowledge that i now have access to a sleek bike, i rallied the troops yesterday afternoon for a ride. my best friend here irina, a young neighbor/bike enthusiast named plamena and i set out just as the sun began to set for and adventure in my town and beyond.
turns out, i am not in shape. well, i can credit my running schedule for being more in shape than my fellow adventurers were. it would seem abstaining from smoking a pack a day and drinking sugar-saturated coffee between every class gives me a slight upper hand, too, even if i cannot curtail my chocolate consumption. i digress.
we managed to pedal ourselves a full 17 kilometers. i did not particularly mind that it took us three hours to ride said 17 kilometers because it was so glorious. glorious to see a new side of town. glorious to wind through dirt streets of a nearby village. glorious to meet an irish man and his wife who live year-round in this little village, who do not speak any of the local language and who need an english-speaking visitor from time to time. glorious, it was, to think about the bike i'll be inheriting in just a few short weeks-- to daydream about all of the far away destinations now within my reach because of this.
i think i'm on to something here. this bike riding idea holds much promise, and not just because i'm still secretly entertaining the idea of riding the danube with another volunteer (ah*matt*em)when this service is done and over with.
i am thrilled thrilled THRILLED by the prospect of the new possibilities opening before me. i feel increasingly able to fathom the daunting list of months ahead of me. i look forward to long summer days lost on quiet roads and in small villages, ebulliently pedaling my way through the ups and downs of this near-inconceivable experience.
WOO!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
a bike
26 days of teaching. 26 more long days of teaching. 26 days. 26 26 26 26.
d
a
y
s.
then greece. and turkey. and friendship. and summer. and more free time. and longer runs.
today i was scooting home from a far away destination (some might call out-of-site...but who ever cared about semantics and technicalities anyway?) when i ran into the director and assistant director of my school in the midst of an i-need-a-doner-right-NOW-dash in a nearby town (oof-how's THAT for a crazy long-winded, run-on sentence?!).
why i was in a hurry remains a mystery. the doner was intended not only to fill my stomach, but also to fill yet another ridiculous time gap separating me and my bus ride home. if nothing else, i've been graced with a site that is um...well, not the most popular destination of the country. i have a direct bus from my town to maybe three other major towns, but that's about it on the transportation front. all this to say, i do A LOT of waiting/reading/eating/beer drinking (sort of kidding) in these time layovers. i actually am growing to like them, these countless hours of existing in transient spaces among people i'll never know and largely, cannot understand.
ANYHOW. i ran into these two women who promptly offered me a ride home (thank HEAVENS). i accepted even though i'd already purchased my bus ticket- what's a mere 4 bucks anyway? i ran off to grab my doner and then raced back to the pick up spot for the school's official chauffeur (read: plumber/electrician/security guard) to pick us up.
and I'll be darned if it wasn't just a pleasant little ride! i got to chat about my life outside of school. i regaled the fellow passengers with (what i thought were) funny stories about running in rain storms, suffering from obscene motion sickness on cross-country bus trips, poking fun at the number of potholes in the highway systems here...etc. etc. i danced around the delicate topic of the school's recent bus trip to france, which exploded into a heinous teacher's squabble and which i miraculously couldn't get my act in gear to go on.
and before i knew it, my director was offering me her personal bike to try out for an upcoming bike trip i'd mentioned. well, and not only that, but the bike was mine whenever an inclination to ride struck me. mister official chauffeur even dropped us off at the school on this day- our day off - so i could go in and test out the bike, which bizarrely, was stationed in the hallway.
i hopped right on the sleek little machine after a quick adjustment of the seat's height. i rode up and down the hallway, not feeling one bit of guilt that the cleaning ladies had labored intensively over rags nailed to wood sticks (commonly known as mops) to clean the floors. it was exhilarating. she watched on, smiling awkwardly like a proud parent the whole time as i whizzed back and forth in delight.
(insert photo of the sleekest, baddest, most awesomest bike here)
when she'd decided the hallway wasn't expansive enough for me to get an authentic feel for the little beast, she helped me drag it down the stairs of the entrance to the school to ride in circles around the neighborhood.
i must have looked like a kid on her new christmas bike because then she told me i could ride it all the way home for her. turns out, her high heeled-getup and that fancy little ride were not compatible and so i got a full 15 minutes of bike riding out of the way on a detoured, zig-zagging path to her apartment.
who would have known? i mean, really. i have no regular contact with this woman. in fact, i nearly had myself convinced she was particularly antisocial and detached from human interaction. my limited experience with her in awkward conversations about missing school and listening to her ramble off information in our oh-so-productive teacher's meetings hadn't given me the impression she liked riding bikes. or that she'd own the sleekest one in town. nor did it suggest she'd love for ME to use it as much as i could possibly want to.
fantastic! the world is indeed looking up today, folks, and i think i'll take her up on her bike offer tomorrow. and the next day. and the next. and that soon enough, the townspeople won't have much interest in gawking at me as i swirl by them on her fancy bike, pleased as pie that i have some wheels under me and lots of road ahead to explore.
i think this is a good way to wind down a tough tough year and look forward to all that could be next year.
and i was thinking, too, since the new group of volunteers arrive tomorrow, about what advice i would forward them at this stage in the game. i think if anyone actually was concerned about my opinion on the matter, i'd tell them this:
a year ago, i still had major plans for solving the world's problems through my humble and gracious work in this country. now, a year later, i've regressed to the point where an afternoon biking around town on my director's bike makes me feel like i'm not a complete and utter failure at life. no, no, i know you didn't join the peace corps to accept generous offers from your director to loan you her bike, but at some point, you begin to accept that these are the only battles you are winning.
and in the end, riding her bike around town today actually meant something.
it's simply too bad for all of you that i cannot articulate just what that something is.
dear universe,
thanks for today.
love,
me.
d
a
y
s.
then greece. and turkey. and friendship. and summer. and more free time. and longer runs.
today i was scooting home from a far away destination (some might call out-of-site...but who ever cared about semantics and technicalities anyway?) when i ran into the director and assistant director of my school in the midst of an i-need-a-doner-right-NOW-dash in a nearby town (oof-how's THAT for a crazy long-winded, run-on sentence?!).
why i was in a hurry remains a mystery. the doner was intended not only to fill my stomach, but also to fill yet another ridiculous time gap separating me and my bus ride home. if nothing else, i've been graced with a site that is um...well, not the most popular destination of the country. i have a direct bus from my town to maybe three other major towns, but that's about it on the transportation front. all this to say, i do A LOT of waiting/reading/eating/beer drinking (sort of kidding) in these time layovers. i actually am growing to like them, these countless hours of existing in transient spaces among people i'll never know and largely, cannot understand.
ANYHOW. i ran into these two women who promptly offered me a ride home (thank HEAVENS). i accepted even though i'd already purchased my bus ticket- what's a mere 4 bucks anyway? i ran off to grab my doner and then raced back to the pick up spot for the school's official chauffeur (read: plumber/electrician/security guard) to pick us up.
and I'll be darned if it wasn't just a pleasant little ride! i got to chat about my life outside of school. i regaled the fellow passengers with (what i thought were) funny stories about running in rain storms, suffering from obscene motion sickness on cross-country bus trips, poking fun at the number of potholes in the highway systems here...etc. etc. i danced around the delicate topic of the school's recent bus trip to france, which exploded into a heinous teacher's squabble and which i miraculously couldn't get my act in gear to go on.
and before i knew it, my director was offering me her personal bike to try out for an upcoming bike trip i'd mentioned. well, and not only that, but the bike was mine whenever an inclination to ride struck me. mister official chauffeur even dropped us off at the school on this day- our day off - so i could go in and test out the bike, which bizarrely, was stationed in the hallway.
i hopped right on the sleek little machine after a quick adjustment of the seat's height. i rode up and down the hallway, not feeling one bit of guilt that the cleaning ladies had labored intensively over rags nailed to wood sticks (commonly known as mops) to clean the floors. it was exhilarating. she watched on, smiling awkwardly like a proud parent the whole time as i whizzed back and forth in delight.
(insert photo of the sleekest, baddest, most awesomest bike here)
when she'd decided the hallway wasn't expansive enough for me to get an authentic feel for the little beast, she helped me drag it down the stairs of the entrance to the school to ride in circles around the neighborhood.
i must have looked like a kid on her new christmas bike because then she told me i could ride it all the way home for her. turns out, her high heeled-getup and that fancy little ride were not compatible and so i got a full 15 minutes of bike riding out of the way on a detoured, zig-zagging path to her apartment.
who would have known? i mean, really. i have no regular contact with this woman. in fact, i nearly had myself convinced she was particularly antisocial and detached from human interaction. my limited experience with her in awkward conversations about missing school and listening to her ramble off information in our oh-so-productive teacher's meetings hadn't given me the impression she liked riding bikes. or that she'd own the sleekest one in town. nor did it suggest she'd love for ME to use it as much as i could possibly want to.
fantastic! the world is indeed looking up today, folks, and i think i'll take her up on her bike offer tomorrow. and the next day. and the next. and that soon enough, the townspeople won't have much interest in gawking at me as i swirl by them on her fancy bike, pleased as pie that i have some wheels under me and lots of road ahead to explore.
i think this is a good way to wind down a tough tough year and look forward to all that could be next year.
and i was thinking, too, since the new group of volunteers arrive tomorrow, about what advice i would forward them at this stage in the game. i think if anyone actually was concerned about my opinion on the matter, i'd tell them this:
a year ago, i still had major plans for solving the world's problems through my humble and gracious work in this country. now, a year later, i've regressed to the point where an afternoon biking around town on my director's bike makes me feel like i'm not a complete and utter failure at life. no, no, i know you didn't join the peace corps to accept generous offers from your director to loan you her bike, but at some point, you begin to accept that these are the only battles you are winning.
and in the end, riding her bike around town today actually meant something.
it's simply too bad for all of you that i cannot articulate just what that something is.
dear universe,
thanks for today.
love,
me.
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