journal entry, mostly

When I was in Germany, I often felt as though I'd lost my footing.  It was like walking on a gravel path in thin shoes-- I could feel every small shift and bump along the way.  There were days that I didn't want to open the shades on my window, put on the thin shoes, and continue on down that path.  There were also the exquisite days where I seemed to be floating. I'd look around and think, "How did I get here?! Here I am, learning, living, and progressing in another country."  Visiting vineyards with friends and putting my face toward the sun, or watching the sunlight beat on my glass of wine, sitting around a table in an impossibly adorable town square.  Commuting over the Rhine River each day as the sun came up.  Stumbling upon adventures and new friends over the course of the year.

Since returning to America, I've often felt like I'm in recovery mode. It took me longer to find my rhythm than I anticipated.  I don't enjoy feeling disheveled or having to search for my confidence that once ran through me so deeply.  I can see all of the areas of my life I'd like to continue to improve, or to bring back up to standard, and while I'm at least now settled back into DC, I somehow haven't kept in touch with some of the people and things that mean the most to me.

I took myself out to coffee on Saturday afternoon along with a notebook and a pen. I sat down to write about my goals, my values, and the steps I can take to ensure that I am always moving in a positive direction and hopefully using what God has blessed me with to do good in this world.  And then on Saturday night, Jenny and I went to a birthday party, and I found myself listening to country music, having good conversation, and smiling from genuine happiness. I never thought I'd say it, but country music sets me right.  Something just clicked in my head, and today suddenly I am awake.  Part of what I'd lost in myself has been restored, and I remembered that it's not all about me. It's about caring about people, appreciating everyone for the weirdos we all are. 

So to my family, to my dear friends, to the people I will cross paths with: I will do better to treat you as part of myself, to focus on you, to do the best I can for you. 

Love always.

Eric Church: Hell On The Heart from Adam Hall on Vimeo.

My Mutti-lein

Today is my mom's birthday!

Kaffee und Kuchen :)  We can pretend we're back on the Rhine!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!

She is an angel here on Earth. She can make any place home, just simply by being there. She can probably beat you in cribbage, and if she's lucky she can beat me in cribbage. She can make the most delightful buttered noodles you'll ever eat. She is the world's best at snail mail, and her cards always seem to find you exactly when you need them. She has a beautiful spirit and unmatched patience. She had a life before having us kids (what?!), and her stories are worth listening to. She has a sense of adventure and a genuine interest in people. She has talked in her sleep at least one time, and it was so funny I thought my gut would burst. 
She is generous. She is creative. She is loving. She is loved.

Ryan Lochte takes on the Hill

"Jeah!" Monday!

Ryan Lochte was on the Hill this evening, advocating to eradicate Muscular Dystrophy, specifically Duchenne, through Parent Project MD.  I was working late, trucking through some stuff, and realized that if I didn't get down there, I'd miss the reception.

I'll admit, after all the media buzz about him during and after the Olympics (some nice, some less-than-flattering), I was curious as to how he'd appear in person.  Was he going to have wings on his shoes?  A grill in his mouth?  Would he say "Rocksss" and make my entire week?

The answer to all of those above questions is "no." Someone told him to wear a suit, run a comb through his hair, and be professional.  And my oh my, does that man follow directions well.  Or maybe he knew to do all of those things himself.  He is an adult, after all.  For all of the well-earned hype over shirtless Ryan Lochte, I'm going to give it to him... a fully clothed Ryan Lochte is an extraordinarily handsome man.

He also has an assistant who intimidates the crap out of me, which is not an easy feat.

When I walked into the reception late with my friend Macy, I didn't even see him at first. He turned out to be across the room doing an excellent job doing what he does.  His assistant was making it clear that it was time for him to head out the door, and there I was thinking, "You know, if there is one person I should ask for a picture with, it's probably him." (And not even because he's delightful to look at but because I swim, and it just was exciting to see him.)

So, I walked up to get a picture and waited because two other girls were also exercising the flashes on their cameras. As I waited, the assistant gave me this look like-- don't even or I will seriously eat your soul. At that point, pissing off the lady was not worth a cell phone picture to me. But then he stopped outside the door on his way out to sign some piece of paper or something, and I thought, all right already! Now or never!

"Hey, Ryan...?"

That's what I say when I'm literally following Ryan Lochte out of a reception. How embarrassing. Never in my years have I requested a picture with a celebrity when they weren't doing pictures, and neverrrr have I practically chased one down. I'm uncomfortable meeting celebrities.  I get all weird knowing that they know that I know who they are even though we've never met.  I'd rather be on a level playing field when meeting someone.

He was kind enough to spare some time to take a picture with me before he went around the corner, down the hall, and away to wherever it is that Ryan Lochte goes on a Monday night in DC. Probably the airport.

I wasn't cool and didn't make an impression in any way, shape, or form, which is another weird thing about meeting celebrities.  I mean, here I am waxing poetic in a blog post (yikes) about ten seconds of my day, and for him I'm the upteenth picture of the day.

However, he was not at the reception to be everyone's photo prop for the evening, and he certainly wasn't there to worry about getting pictures with staffers. He was there to bring attention to Muscular Dystrophy.  And so, because he turned around and took a picture with me, I will stress again that he was here for a very serious and good cause-- eradicating Duchenne.

I went back up to my office and finished up some work. I had time for a short swim tonight, so I left and headed to the pool.  In the second lane was a man with muscular dystrophy, using swimming as a way to stay as strong and fit as he can.  It seemed fitting for today.

The picture. Ryan Lochte. Me. Assistant to the right.



Duchenne muscular dystrophy (DMD) is a genetic disorder characterized by progressive muscle degeneration and weakness. It is one of nine types of muscular dystrophy.

As of 2011, most therapies for DMD are supportive in nature, but research to develop truly disease-modifying therapies is under way.

Learn more.

Exorcist stairs

 

On Friday night, I went to Zero Dark Thirty at the theaters in Georgetown (by the way, have you seen this?! go see this!).  I go to G-town pretty much never because it's relatively difficult to get to, and I lack some of the unspoken prerequisites that one needs in order to fit in there.   Afterwards, we walked the length of M Street, heading East until we hit 36th St.  And there, there at 36th and M, are the stairs that were made famous in The Exorcist.  You know, the ones that the priest throws himself down when he's all possessed.  You don't know?  I couldn't remember that scene either because I've only seen the movie once, and it was over a decade ago.  That's why Google exists! The stairs are insanely steep and would not be fun to fall down.  That is all I have to say about that.