:::Good Times at Good Stuff:::

A few weeks ago it was my friend Precyous's birthday. Presh works at the front desk during the day at the house, and I have taken her under my wing and forcibly made myself her mentor. I have always wanted to mentor a youth and impart my wisdom on one of the rising generation.


Presh turned 19 that day and wore a tiara to celebrate. She said that she got a few strange looks on the metro and felt somewhat embarrassed at first, but then she realized that she was a grown woman and could do whatever she wanted. Go on.

One of the housekeepers who is friends with Presh also came along. For most of the outing I was privvy to the, ahem, intriguing world views and conversation styles of two 19 year old girls. Wow, just, wow. They are such, such dorks.


We went to Good Stuff Eatery and enjoyed burgers, fries, and shakes. I felt so old being with them since I was totally in the doting supervisory role -- I talked them through the menu, ordered for them, and of course paid. Then I waited for the food, got condiments and napkins, and passed everything out and set up their little plates. Honestly though, it was fun and slightly humerous to be in that mom role.


Of course, the food was delicious, and Good Stuff had their A game on with the toasted marshmallow shakes that day. I am not a dessert person, but I would never turn one of these down.

After we walked back to the house -- saying hello to everyone we passed, especially the 'hot' policemen (girls!) -- we had brownies that my friend, and other resident manager, Carissa had made. Then I gave Presh here gifts, which were a grouping of little things that I had made or put together for her. I have to say, this was my most successful multi-present organizing/wrapping attempt ever.



But the good times continue. The next day Whitney, my old roommate from BYU, came through DC and stopped by my house. We walked over to Good Stuff in a classic torrential DC rain storm, and yes, I had another toasted marshmallow shake.

{Excuse our less than awesome self-portrait. We really did get soaked.}

It was great catching up with Whit again. She's still in her residency in Cleveland, and is stressed to the max but still doing well. I have no idea how anyone makes it through medical school and residency without losing their mind. Or their spouses and families. Seriously.

:::Fall Under the Wire, Part 1:::

Somewhere along the lines I forgot that the leaves were changing colors and failed to go out and take any pictures. Last weekend I finally got some shots just under the wire. My sister and brother-in-law went to Pennsylvania to see the leaves, so I went down to their apartment on Saturday to get their car and do some shopping.

On my short walk to Cap South I saw some great fall specimens. Oh, these colors!




This next photo is representative of that classic East Coast look -- brick sidewalks, row houses, street parking, fall leaves, and a church steeple in the background. There are a lot of old fashioned church buildings back here. That wasn't completely random.


These other photos may not be fall related, but I love, love them.





This fall grouping photo would have been perfect if not for the Texas flag in the background.


Oh, sorry, Sarah. I meant that the Texas flag makes the photo even better.

After some shenanigans involved with getting to my sister's apartment -- taking the wrong train (how is that possible now?), a missed bus, an emergency stop at a mall bathroom, and catching a cab outside of a Ritz in my tracksuit and Crocs -- I finally picked up the car and set out down King Street towards Old Town Alexandria.

On my way there I was a picture taking fiend. Look at these houses! Once the temperature and humidity drop I love this area and feel so happy to be here.


I was enamored with this long line of pumpkins interspersed with these lime green fruits/pods that I couldn't identify.

{This house was my favorite}

It stretched on for quite a few houses, and I wondered which family had come up with the idea, and who had taken the time to set it all up. I also wondered if the youths would go to town smashing it all later that night.

:::Night Cheese:::

I love 30 Rock...when the show isn't filthy nasty. I laugh when they do something funny, but then I nearly split my seams when they do something funny that has another layer of funny to it (How many posts could I write about the racial humor? Oh, many).

One of my favorite things that they do is make commentaries about living in the city. DC is no New York, no ma'am, but it's enough of a big town that I'm hip to the jive, if you know what I mean. I find myself watching the show sometimes and saying, 'Oh my gosh! Yes! YES!'

This is one of my all-time favorite clips. I want to show it to every young college girl, like I once was, who dreams of moving someplace fast-paced and exciting and living the life of Riley. Here's the reality of that dream, in one YouTube clip --



That's my life, right there. The high flying 'I love the city!' feeling, juxtaposed with un-awesome urban grittiness. Okay, maybe I've never been pushed into street trash, but the old lady with the walker is pretty spot on.

Here is another of my favorite scenes from the show. Before I interned in DC back in college, I never really understood what it was like to live and work amongst a large homeless population. Here's how it goes most days --



Yep. I'm not lying. A guy at Union Station this week told me to give him my clothes. He wasn't being nasty or anything. Nasty sounds more like, 'Hey suga', I'm real lonely tonight.' For some reason he just really, really wanted my clothes. ??? Who knows.

These final examples, oh, these are legend. Too bad I can't find a YouTube clip for them, but they are all from last night's episode, which you can watch full-length on the NBC website.

The first clip starts at 1:10 when Jack is looking at all the nut jobs that Liz and Pete are bringing in for auditions. As he's going over the head shots he says, 'I'm already not liking some of these people, it reminds me of being on the bus.' Ha, ha! So true, Jackie D. Bus people be cuh-ray-zay.

Then at 9:17 you have to watch Jack's whole speech in the train car. I've only been to New York three times, but during each trip I heard this exact. same. speech. verbatim on practically every other subway ride I took. Always with the, 'I'm sorry to bother you,' 'I'm not homeless,' something about medication for an illness, and a final sign-off along the lines of 'God bless.' And that guy at 9:50 is totally Moonvest from the 'Give me your fingernails!' clip. I love it.

For an extra treat, scroll to the credits and watch Jack sing with the trio as he shakes his little paper sack of coins. Alec Baldwin, you are an acting genius.

So that's what it's like to live in a city. When it's awesome, I want to stride down the street in a designer pantsuit with a chic handbag on my arm. When it's bad, I just pretend that I'm sourcing material for Tina Fey.

Where am I on the scale these days? Well, it's cold, and the tourists have left (thank the sweet heavens), so I'm doing pretty well.

:::Darn it, Sun!:::

Guess when this photo was taken? 7:06 am. Not, 4:06 am, 5:06 am, or 6:06 am. 7:06 am. This is one of the very few things that I don't like about this time of year. In this regard, summer, you win.

P.S. -- My grandma had snow last month in South Dakota. Today I read that Colorado has been hit pretty hard. I want snow. Do you hear me, pathetic Mid-Atlantic weather kings? I WANT SNOW!

:::As Donors Focus on AIDS, Child Illnesses Languish:::

As Donors Focus on AIDS, Child Illnesses Languish

Oh, this burns me up. This really, really burns me up.

:::Christian Ways:::

This post is long but I feel so strongly about this topic and wanted to share what I have been thinking today.

In church today we had a talk about retention and the true calling of Zion that put me to shame. If Christ could teach on the side of dirt roads to lepers and outcasts, then I can happily walk or metro or catch a ride to a renovated minimart, sit on hard plastic chairs, and teach nursery in a room the size of a walk-in closet. If His followers could learn on a fishing boat in a raging sea, if Joseph Smith could restore the gospel in swamps and prison cells, then I can do my work and feel the spirit in a non-traditional congregation. If my testimony relies on the trappings of a stereotypical Mormon ward -- the big building, the active congregation, the nice and new supplies, the people that all know how to act, the wonderful programs and fun activities -- then I am in a sad state. Then I have missed everything that Christ has ever taught about who He really is, and what it truly means to take His name upon us and bare the privilege of being called one of His disciples.

If I have ever made a new convert or a long time member feel like they weren't welcomed or they weren't good enough to be part of the fold because they didn't act 'The Mormon Way', then where the heck do I get off pointing my finger at others for making me feel this same way? I'm afraid that sometimes I might have been so desperate to be a success at fitting in that I have ignored the one so I could align myself with the ninety and nine. Or maybe I have tried to make someone else feel like the one so I wouldn't have to that random outlier that tarnishes the appearances of God's chosen people. There always has to be a scapegoat, right?

Here is something that I've realized about the Savior's ministry as I've learned more and more of His ways -- He was almost always with the ones that no one else wanted to be with, and not in a cool 'look at me' sort of way. Just quietly, day after day, when He could be doing more fun and personally comforting things. He touched lepers and walked next to adulterers and sinners. He knelt down next to the lame and listened to the mentally handicapped. And then He spoke with rich men and princes and merchants and priests. Then He brought all of these people together and said, 'Come follow me.' He had such goodness and love inside of Him that He could sit down with a ignorant man on one hand and a scholar on the other and make them friends. It wasn't a charity project, it wasn't a service activity, He was just being who He was, a Christian through and through.

My ward is not normal, and when I first started attending I was annoyed that things weren't all lined up the way I was used to. All I wanted was to go to church and have the same experiences that I was used to having. We always say that the church is the same everywhere. Well then, why wasn't someone doing something about my ward?

When we meet the Savior again I think we will be so happy, and He will be so happy to see us. But I also think there will be a moment where He show us the people we ignored or excluded because they were different and say to us, 'I coudn't be there, why didn't you go for me? I loved her so much, why couldn't you be her friend? Why did you let him sit alone? Why didn't you adapt to help them?' I don't think it will be about guilt, I think it will be a plaintive questioning from a Father who will want to know why His children didn't love each other more.


If I imagine the Savior during His mortal life, I see Him walking down a road alone, then meeting a man on the path. As he continues to walk He smiles, puts His arm around the man, and looks with deep interest and love into his eyes as the man begins to tell the Savior about his day, about his life. Up the road they come across another, and the Savior invites him to join them as they walk. When he does, Jesus acts the same to this man that he did towards the first man -- loving him and investing in his well-being. And in those encounters, however brief they may be, He loves both of them, He teaches both of them, and He brings them the gospel in a personal, adapted, and real way. He is the gospel in action, not in appearance or in culture. He acts out the gospel to those people, and because of His ways these men He met are now brothers and friends with all the most important things in common.

Everything falls away in the end. Flannel boards, primary songs, hymn books and pews, all these things are just the mortal props for an eternal gospel that has nothing to do with foyers and minivans and tank tops under t-shirts and firesides and Girls Camp. If I can't cope with the Gospel in any other form than the Western USA package, then I have missed the whole point, the whole point, and I am mistaken in my belief that I know what the Kingdom of God looks like. Would I even recognize Zion if I saw it? Will I have the desire in my heart to be there when I see who I'll have treat as my equals?

:::Honest Opinions, Please:::

Is this one of those things that only looks good in carefully staged photos?


In real life, would I look like a tool walking down the street with a bunch of rosebuds on my chest?


Do I have the wardrobe to support this kind of accessory?


$32.50? Is that an insane amount to spend on something like this (I'm leaning towards yes on this one)?


Am I just loving the colors? The textures and shapes? The playfulness of it all?