Well, I think I've officially hit the wall. During my first week here, I felt myself improving with my spanish within the first two days of being here. I got better and better at understanding Piedad and my professors and being able to communicate myself as the week went on.
However, now, I feel like I'm back in 7th grade learning spanish for the first time. And I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've had confirmation from my compañeros (classmates). Classes are harder to sit through since I pick up maybe half of what my professors are saying and I find myself asking "What? Say that again? Pardon me?" way more than I want to. It's a tad frustrating but my prediction is that this is just the sucky second week. Haven't you heard of this? It's a thing. Studies show that [insert problem here] tends to get worse before it can get better. When I was in high school, my second quarter grades would always be way worse than my first quarter grades, but I'd bring them up. After exercising, the second day of your muscles being sore is literally so much more painful than the first day, but you stretch em out and they relax a bit. I can only imagine a second trimester of a pregnancy must blow...people aren't sure if you're prego or not because you've got that little pooch but nothing substantial to hold a baby...I think I may be getting off topic. The point is, this second week here will most likely end with me believing I'll never speak spanish again and the poof! We'll all be pros from there on out.
I went to a dance class last night! We learned a little bit of flamenco and salsa and meringue. It was...interesting. My hips hurt afterwards, no joke. And my wrists from doing that little spiny thing with them.
Today I had a pretty eventful day. My theater class is so boss. Little do my classmates know I was that kid in high school. The one who did all the plays and musicals. Not ashamed. This class is so fun! Today we improv-ed and acted out scenes in front of each other. For our final exam, we have to put on a play for the entire student body studying at UCLM (Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha) this summer. That's about 200, if you're curious. I'm only slightly concerned because we haven't been told anything about it yet and we've only got 3 weeks to go after tomorrow. Hopefully scripts will be allowed on stage.
After class, our professor explained to us that there was a photo crew there from "Dos UCLM," which is basically an organization that works for the university and promotes awesome learning and love around campus. They were looking for volunteers to have their picture taken with a big red heart drawn somewhere on their body, so we did! Most the boys had them drawn on their biceps. I would've too but didn't want to embarrass them. I'll post the link where the pictures will be when they're up!
I didn't have time for a siesta today because we took a field trip to the largest cathedral in Toledo. It was huge. And looked pretty similar to the ones we've seen. My history teacher really likes to repeat himself, which is great, because it gets engrained into your brain, but it sucks, because it's engrained into your brain. We get it, Davíd. Góticos = siglos doce, trece, y catorce, entonces las romanes, con arcos y vidieras...see? I can repeat this stuff in my sleep.
Piedad made me a cheeseburger tonight. What a woman.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Week One, Check
It's been quite a week here! It's gone by super slow and super fast at the same time. I can't believe I'm already a week in!
Just a quick update on the goings on of the past week:
Monday was the first day of classes. I found the building perfectly fine and everything and was feelin great when suddenly, out of nowhere, nausea hit me like Muhammad. I figured out later it was probably just a combination of dehydration, no sleep, stress, and major anxiety, but at the moment, all I could think of was me just hurling everywhere on the first day of class. I leaned forward in my seat and asked my director where the nearest bathroom was. He directed me to my one professor who told me how to get there. I thought he said "go left, then right," but he actually said "go right, then left." My ears were doing that ocean wave thing right before you're about to faint. You know the feeling. I stumbled out of the classroom and all around the courtyard trying to find the nearest bathroom. There was some sort of black tie affair going on outside, with ladies in fancy dresses and men in tuxedos and waiters with bow-ties all around. And suddenly, my body didn't feel like waiting for me to find a bathroom anymore. I grabbed the nearest thing with a hole in it and hurled in the middle of the fancy-pants party with the fancy-pants people. It's actually really freaking funny when I think about it now. But at the time I was just feeling awful, especially because I had just thrown up into a recycle bin. My teacher must have been watching me struggle because he ran out of the classroom and actually took me by the arm to the nearest bathroom. "You look as white as a sheet," he said in almost understandable spanish. "Probably," was all I could get out. After that incident, though, the week was much better.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I pretty much figured out exactly how eating goes around here. Breakfast the second after you wake up, a huge lunch at 2:30, tapas (appetizers) at 5 or 6, a huge dinner at 10:30. That's pretty much how it's gone every day. Wednesday, my host mom's mom came into town to stay a couple of days. This woman literally told me to "get fatter." On Thursday we were sitting and talking at the kitchen table waiting for lunch to be done, each with our own plates in front of us. When the buzzer went off, she picked up her own plate and began scooping. One, two, three, four, five, SIX ladles later, I thought to myself, "Thank goodness that's not for me and I'll be able to serve myself a reasonable amount that I can actually intake." Wrong, Ang. So wrong. She puts the dish down in front of me. "For me?" I ask her. "Of course it's for you," she says. "But it's so much," I reply. "I don't care." Literally. That's how it goes here in good ol' España. They feed you until you LITERALLY can't take in any more food for fear your stomach might ACTUALLY burst. And I thought Italians were bad.
Friday my classmates and I took a trip to Segovia! It's a town about 2 hours away from Toledo, with huge aqueducts and lots of awesome churches. Our history professor came with us. He's actually really awesome. He'd be awesomer if I could understand his Spanish better. We climbed to the top of the aqueducts and just as I was peering over the side to get a better look, he said "Yeah, a lot of people actually fell to their deaths while building this; they didn't have any way to keep themselves strapped in." I took a few steps back.
When I got home that night, Piedad and I watched a game show called "Pasapalabra" (pass the word). It's an awesome game show. Still super corny like the ones in the US, but pretty fun and sort of easy for me to follow along. I'm sure I'll get better at understanding what's going on the more I watch it.
And today we went to church! Almost everyone in Spain is catholic. The church was beautiful. More stained glass in one place than I've ever seen in my life. It was pretty easy to follow along, too, since I know the structure of mass. All I really got out of the sermon, though, was that Jesus needs us to be lights for the world. Oh and he talked about Mary and Elizabeth being cousins; I don't know why (the gospel was out of Luke). Simple enough.
You know those stereotypes everyone has about Spain in the United States? THEY'RE ALL TRUE. All of them. I've only been here a week and I walk down the streets saying to myself, "Stereotype confirmed, stereotype validated."
-Everyone feeds you until you explode and you get a dirty look if you finish but don't want anymore food.
-Women do everything. Cook, clean, mop. Piedad yells at me if I try to wash a fork.
-Everything is a stick shift. Even the big big buses. They roll backward before they go forward.
-There's graffiti everywhere. Well, not everywhere, but most places. Especially on the highways and buildings and such. It must be why Graffiti Pete is such a big deal in In the Heights.
-Women talk at the same time. In person, on the phone, anytime of the day, women are always trying to talk over each other. It results in yelling most of the time. And it happens constantly and I'm not exaggerating even a little. You know Gloria from Modern Family? Exactly.
But seriously, I'm really beginning to enjoy my time here. It's a lot different but there are things here that I can get used to. For example, it's totally acceptable to pass out for a nap at literally any time of the day. And for however long you want. Definitely have taken advantage of that almost every day. I miss home like crazy; my family, my kitty, streets that are familiar, oh and being in the same time zone as everyone I communicate with. That's a big one. But I've been told a million times already that I won't want to leave when my time is finally up here. It's probably true.
Just a quick update on the goings on of the past week:
Monday was the first day of classes. I found the building perfectly fine and everything and was feelin great when suddenly, out of nowhere, nausea hit me like Muhammad. I figured out later it was probably just a combination of dehydration, no sleep, stress, and major anxiety, but at the moment, all I could think of was me just hurling everywhere on the first day of class. I leaned forward in my seat and asked my director where the nearest bathroom was. He directed me to my one professor who told me how to get there. I thought he said "go left, then right," but he actually said "go right, then left." My ears were doing that ocean wave thing right before you're about to faint. You know the feeling. I stumbled out of the classroom and all around the courtyard trying to find the nearest bathroom. There was some sort of black tie affair going on outside, with ladies in fancy dresses and men in tuxedos and waiters with bow-ties all around. And suddenly, my body didn't feel like waiting for me to find a bathroom anymore. I grabbed the nearest thing with a hole in it and hurled in the middle of the fancy-pants party with the fancy-pants people. It's actually really freaking funny when I think about it now. But at the time I was just feeling awful, especially because I had just thrown up into a recycle bin. My teacher must have been watching me struggle because he ran out of the classroom and actually took me by the arm to the nearest bathroom. "You look as white as a sheet," he said in almost understandable spanish. "Probably," was all I could get out. After that incident, though, the week was much better.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I pretty much figured out exactly how eating goes around here. Breakfast the second after you wake up, a huge lunch at 2:30, tapas (appetizers) at 5 or 6, a huge dinner at 10:30. That's pretty much how it's gone every day. Wednesday, my host mom's mom came into town to stay a couple of days. This woman literally told me to "get fatter." On Thursday we were sitting and talking at the kitchen table waiting for lunch to be done, each with our own plates in front of us. When the buzzer went off, she picked up her own plate and began scooping. One, two, three, four, five, SIX ladles later, I thought to myself, "Thank goodness that's not for me and I'll be able to serve myself a reasonable amount that I can actually intake." Wrong, Ang. So wrong. She puts the dish down in front of me. "For me?" I ask her. "Of course it's for you," she says. "But it's so much," I reply. "I don't care." Literally. That's how it goes here in good ol' España. They feed you until you LITERALLY can't take in any more food for fear your stomach might ACTUALLY burst. And I thought Italians were bad.
Friday my classmates and I took a trip to Segovia! It's a town about 2 hours away from Toledo, with huge aqueducts and lots of awesome churches. Our history professor came with us. He's actually really awesome. He'd be awesomer if I could understand his Spanish better. We climbed to the top of the aqueducts and just as I was peering over the side to get a better look, he said "Yeah, a lot of people actually fell to their deaths while building this; they didn't have any way to keep themselves strapped in." I took a few steps back.
When I got home that night, Piedad and I watched a game show called "Pasapalabra" (pass the word). It's an awesome game show. Still super corny like the ones in the US, but pretty fun and sort of easy for me to follow along. I'm sure I'll get better at understanding what's going on the more I watch it.
And today we went to church! Almost everyone in Spain is catholic. The church was beautiful. More stained glass in one place than I've ever seen in my life. It was pretty easy to follow along, too, since I know the structure of mass. All I really got out of the sermon, though, was that Jesus needs us to be lights for the world. Oh and he talked about Mary and Elizabeth being cousins; I don't know why (the gospel was out of Luke). Simple enough.
You know those stereotypes everyone has about Spain in the United States? THEY'RE ALL TRUE. All of them. I've only been here a week and I walk down the streets saying to myself, "Stereotype confirmed, stereotype validated."
-Everyone feeds you until you explode and you get a dirty look if you finish but don't want anymore food.
-Women do everything. Cook, clean, mop. Piedad yells at me if I try to wash a fork.
-Everything is a stick shift. Even the big big buses. They roll backward before they go forward.
-There's graffiti everywhere. Well, not everywhere, but most places. Especially on the highways and buildings and such. It must be why Graffiti Pete is such a big deal in In the Heights.
-Women talk at the same time. In person, on the phone, anytime of the day, women are always trying to talk over each other. It results in yelling most of the time. And it happens constantly and I'm not exaggerating even a little. You know Gloria from Modern Family? Exactly.
But seriously, I'm really beginning to enjoy my time here. It's a lot different but there are things here that I can get used to. For example, it's totally acceptable to pass out for a nap at literally any time of the day. And for however long you want. Definitely have taken advantage of that almost every day. I miss home like crazy; my family, my kitty, streets that are familiar, oh and being in the same time zone as everyone I communicate with. That's a big one. But I've been told a million times already that I won't want to leave when my time is finally up here. It's probably true.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Fiehalxoeiafjz
The title of this post is what my brain feels like right now.
Today we came to Toledo, where we'll be studying for the next 5 weeks. We met our host families (moms, mostly) where they took us to their homes. Everyone greets you with a kiss on each cheek; it was fun watching the super awkward boys man up and do that. Piedad, my host mom, is a serious boss. She talks SUPER fast, so I've had to ask her many times to repeat herself. Thankfully, she has a ton of patience and even told me she doesn't mind saying things slower or saying them a million times. After she brought me home, she immediately made me something to eat. I had albóndigas, which are basically meatballs in sauce, watermelon, salad, and bread. I couldn't finish all of it! She let me take a 2 hour siesta before taking me around to see where I would be going to school and the Plaza de Zocodover, which is basically the heart of Toledo. Piedad lives outside the Casco, where school and Zocodover are, but everything is pretty much in walking distance. There are hills too! It feels a lot like Athens. Except the roads are made of bricks AND stones. It looks like someone just threw a bunch of random rocks in the roads while the cement was hardening. Girls look even stupider wearing heels here.
I met up with the OU group in the Plaza and our mommies left us. We walked around with the director of our program; he took us to an outdoor bar/cafe where we had free sangrías! I wish I could've had enough for it to be worth it. The drinks were in huge beer pitchers, and I think I had about a quarter of it before feeling like I was going to fall over. All my peers kept saying "You can't even taste the alcohol!" Well, that's all I could taste. What a newb. We walked around a lot, trying to memorize street signs and points of interest. One street is literally called La Calle de Toledo de Ohio. Bahaha. So they know of us.
I was the last person to be brought home since I live the farthest away. My director took the bus with me! Good thing I google stalked the crap out of where Piedad lives; it was super easy finding her apartment building. When I came in, it was about 9. We talked for a while, and I could already understand her spanish a little better, but my brain was killing me. I took a quick shower and when I was done she gave me the password for the wifi in the apartment. Phew. As I was fanoodling with that, she was fanoodling in the kitchen, and suddenly comes out with a tray with a huge ham sandwich, banana, yogurt, and water. IT WAS 10:30PM. She didn't ask me if I was hungry until after I was half way through. Oh my gosh. The rumors are true, they are all about feeding you here until you can't take it anymore. I put the banana in the fridge and told her I'd take it for breakfast tomorrow. I started to wash the spoon I had eaten the yogurt with and she yelled at me. "I do that," she said. "Put it down." Oh boy. She asked how my vocabulary was and I told her not very good and that since we focus on grammar so much in school, I forget a lot of easy words often. So she brought me around the kitchen pointing to things and quizzing me. It was fun to surprise her with words I did know.
Before she went to bed she gave me a mom lecture about being careful while walking around, and while most of the time it's safe, there are still lots of pick pocketers who will not hesitate to take your things. She cares a lot about her little adopted hija.
I seriously hope my brain doesn't feel like this at the end of every day, but I have a feeling it might.
Today we came to Toledo, where we'll be studying for the next 5 weeks. We met our host families (moms, mostly) where they took us to their homes. Everyone greets you with a kiss on each cheek; it was fun watching the super awkward boys man up and do that. Piedad, my host mom, is a serious boss. She talks SUPER fast, so I've had to ask her many times to repeat herself. Thankfully, she has a ton of patience and even told me she doesn't mind saying things slower or saying them a million times. After she brought me home, she immediately made me something to eat. I had albóndigas, which are basically meatballs in sauce, watermelon, salad, and bread. I couldn't finish all of it! She let me take a 2 hour siesta before taking me around to see where I would be going to school and the Plaza de Zocodover, which is basically the heart of Toledo. Piedad lives outside the Casco, where school and Zocodover are, but everything is pretty much in walking distance. There are hills too! It feels a lot like Athens. Except the roads are made of bricks AND stones. It looks like someone just threw a bunch of random rocks in the roads while the cement was hardening. Girls look even stupider wearing heels here.
I met up with the OU group in the Plaza and our mommies left us. We walked around with the director of our program; he took us to an outdoor bar/cafe where we had free sangrías! I wish I could've had enough for it to be worth it. The drinks were in huge beer pitchers, and I think I had about a quarter of it before feeling like I was going to fall over. All my peers kept saying "You can't even taste the alcohol!" Well, that's all I could taste. What a newb. We walked around a lot, trying to memorize street signs and points of interest. One street is literally called La Calle de Toledo de Ohio. Bahaha. So they know of us.
I was the last person to be brought home since I live the farthest away. My director took the bus with me! Good thing I google stalked the crap out of where Piedad lives; it was super easy finding her apartment building. When I came in, it was about 9. We talked for a while, and I could already understand her spanish a little better, but my brain was killing me. I took a quick shower and when I was done she gave me the password for the wifi in the apartment. Phew. As I was fanoodling with that, she was fanoodling in the kitchen, and suddenly comes out with a tray with a huge ham sandwich, banana, yogurt, and water. IT WAS 10:30PM. She didn't ask me if I was hungry until after I was half way through. Oh my gosh. The rumors are true, they are all about feeding you here until you can't take it anymore. I put the banana in the fridge and told her I'd take it for breakfast tomorrow. I started to wash the spoon I had eaten the yogurt with and she yelled at me. "I do that," she said. "Put it down." Oh boy. She asked how my vocabulary was and I told her not very good and that since we focus on grammar so much in school, I forget a lot of easy words often. So she brought me around the kitchen pointing to things and quizzing me. It was fun to surprise her with words I did know.
Before she went to bed she gave me a mom lecture about being careful while walking around, and while most of the time it's safe, there are still lots of pick pocketers who will not hesitate to take your things. She cares a lot about her little adopted hija.
I seriously hope my brain doesn't feel like this at the end of every day, but I have a feeling it might.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
That One Time in Madrid
Well then. Today has been quite a day. We got into Madrid this morning at around 7am (an 8 hour flight altogether) but it seriously feels like that was days ago. Thankfully I have a travel buddy, Cassie; I have no idea how I would've managed without her. When we got off the plane we tried not to look like total American newbs but I know it didn't matter how hard we tried...I felt like I had "Dumb American" stamped to my forehead. We checked our big luggage into this place that has big lockers for such purposes, but the people at the desk didn't speak much English at all so it was super hard trying to figure out what we were supposed to do. Between being tired from the flight and trying to become familiar with the new surroundings, I couldn't think of how to say practically anything in Spanish. After finally checking our baggage we tried finding the bus to take us to our hostel, which was a nightmare in itself since we didn't even know really where we needed to go or which bus to take, so we just ended up getting a taxi! Our driver was friendly but she didn't speak any English, so we warmed up our brains by telling her we were students from the US (actually I think she guessed where we were from, dammit) studying abroad. It was a good 20 minute drive so I thought for sure there would be no one from our program around the area, but it turns out I booked the most popular hostel in all of Madrid! It wouldn't look like it from the outside (it took about 20 minutes of us walking up and down the street before we saw the door appear out of freaking Narnia) and it's super sketchy until you get up the stairs. It's very clean; there are a few kitchens and bathrooms and showers, the walls are painted, and there are free bowls of churros EVERYWHERE. Nom nom.
Cassie and I decided to plop down at a table next to a girl on her laptop while we waited for our room to be cleaned since we arrived a little early for check in. She was from Argentina and didn't speak any English at all but we talked for a good 15 minutes with her. She was awesome and super patient while we stumbled over our words. After our room opened up, I passed out for literally 6 and a half hours. I would've kept sleeping if Cassie didn't wake me up to go explore.
Madrid looks a lot like New York City, except a lot older. The buildings look antique but there are bright neon signs everywhere you go. Fashion is such a huge thing here. All of the shops up and down the streets are super upscale. Men wear their collars popped with chokers (I mean really?). Women are dressed in big get ups and most of them aren't too modest about how much cleavage they allow the world to see. Gay love is loud and proud! Men are mackin' on each other everywhere you go, and I definitely saw one guy give his partner a big ass-squeeze today. I couldn't help but giggle. Cassie and I came back and napped some more and then went out for dinner around 10pm. It was still light outside! We had chicken salad with tomatoes and bacon on toasted bread and french fries; it was called "tosta," go figure. It was delicioso.
We meet the big group at the airport tomorrow at noon to be taken to Toledo! I emailed my host mom, Piedad today; she responded with "Oh, you have a very Spanish name. We won't have any trouble getting along." I already love this woman. I burned her son an American music mix CD; threw some Mumford, Of Monsters and Men, and Zac Brown on there. And of course, Call Me Maybe. He better freaking like it.
Cassie and I decided to plop down at a table next to a girl on her laptop while we waited for our room to be cleaned since we arrived a little early for check in. She was from Argentina and didn't speak any English at all but we talked for a good 15 minutes with her. She was awesome and super patient while we stumbled over our words. After our room opened up, I passed out for literally 6 and a half hours. I would've kept sleeping if Cassie didn't wake me up to go explore.
Madrid looks a lot like New York City, except a lot older. The buildings look antique but there are bright neon signs everywhere you go. Fashion is such a huge thing here. All of the shops up and down the streets are super upscale. Men wear their collars popped with chokers (I mean really?). Women are dressed in big get ups and most of them aren't too modest about how much cleavage they allow the world to see. Gay love is loud and proud! Men are mackin' on each other everywhere you go, and I definitely saw one guy give his partner a big ass-squeeze today. I couldn't help but giggle. Cassie and I came back and napped some more and then went out for dinner around 10pm. It was still light outside! We had chicken salad with tomatoes and bacon on toasted bread and french fries; it was called "tosta," go figure. It was delicioso.
We meet the big group at the airport tomorrow at noon to be taken to Toledo! I emailed my host mom, Piedad today; she responded with "Oh, you have a very Spanish name. We won't have any trouble getting along." I already love this woman. I burned her son an American music mix CD; threw some Mumford, Of Monsters and Men, and Zac Brown on there. And of course, Call Me Maybe. He better freaking like it.
Friday, June 15, 2012
My Co-Leaders Are My Home Boiz
I'm leaving for Spain tomorrow. Oh yeah, that application I handed in about 6 months ago was a real hit with the OU study abroad board! I'm gone for 5 weeks...when you think about it, that's really not a lot of time at all. 5 weeks will go by so quickly, and before I know it, I'll be back in my little nook, hangin' out with my family and eating way too much Mighty Taco. My 5 week excursion is just the opposite of what two of my very best friends are doing this summer (one of them tomorrow too, actually). They're movin' out - and stayin' out.
Margaret and Brian are (were?.. no. forever are) my co-leaders at Nelsonville-York High School, where we lead YoungLife. Over the past two years of being their friend and over a year of being their co, they've taught me more about life than I ever thought I would get in all four years of college. They can make me laugh and aren't afraid to wipe my tears. They've been such a huge part of my college life that I really can't even stand the idea of them leaving and growing up to be all successful and adult-like. But I guess I'll have to get over that.
I met Margaret my very first day of college. I remember I liked her right off the bat because she was as short as me. And her name was Margaret. It wasn't long before I realized that the feisty and spunky personality that hid inside Margaret was never really hiding. It was always on the surface ready to make an appearance, although it probably wasn't until after I started leading with her last year that I got to experience it for myself. One time I made some playful but snarky comment to her and after I had turned away from her, laughing at how funny I was, I felt a zing up my neck. It was then I realized she had punched me in the spine. Like I said. Feisty.
Margaret is always fun to be around, but she's the most fun at about 2 o'clock in the morning. That's when she's hungry for Union Street Diner food and really really giddy. So naturally, it wasn't uncommon to be at Union Street Diner on a Saturday at 2am and be really really giddy with her.
One of my favorite memories with her was one Monday night when she gave a really kick-ass club talk (can I say ass and club talk in the same sentence?) and on the way home through smartphone technology, saw that our high school kids were blowing up facebook and twitter talking about how great her talk was. When we got back to campus we all just got out of the car, hugged in a circle, and cried. Man. I seriously loved that night.
Margaret loved to talk to me about her life, and I loved to listen. We had so many great talks, just her and me, on the way to the high school or to a sporting event. Some days it was quiet, and those were nice too. She has the most comfortable car I've ever been in. I fell asleep too many times to count on the way to and from Nelsonville. There are pictures, unfortunately, to prove it.
Margaret taught me to not take things for granted. To make the most of my time at OU. She taught me about confrontation and that speaking your mind is almost never a bad thing - if you say something wrong, people will get over it if they really love you. She taught me perseverance in leading and a few of the million aspects of the power of prayer. She reminds me to never put God in a box. He's way bigger than we think he is and can do way more than we could ever imagine. She's taught me most of these things without even knowing it.
Margaret's moving to Des Moines, Iowa tomorrow to work with newspaper design. She's super artsy and talented. I can't wait to see what God's gonna throw her way next.
I also met Brian on my first day in Athens. Everyone called him BK for short because his last name is awesome and begins with a K and ends with assouf. I forget who introduced us, but I remember it was awkward after they did. BK is one awkward dude. And everyone loves him for it. I especially do. BK told me he liked my shoes. I liked his beard, but I don't think I told him that.
One time Brian and our friend Maeve took me to the ER because I was having some major tummy issues. He did so much for me that night. He even stayed with me in the room where they ask you all the awkward questions about how long ago your last period was. We played with the doctors toys to pass the time. I remember him laughing at how loopy I was getting after the medicine started to kick in. I was laughing too. He was good at making me laugh.
One time he stayed up all Friday night and Saturday so he could act in our 48 Hour Shootout video. He didn't have to. But he did.
One time he and I "broke into" the skit closet at Rockbridge during leader weekend and put on dinosaur costumes and danced around on scooters in front of our friends.
And more than one time, we enjoyed hot apple cider on his roof, prayer sessions, making spaghetti (the most recent time was for a YoungLife club where we made 29 pounds of it in one day...I just like to brag), worshiping at 180, and lots and lots of laughs.
My favorite thing about BK being my co-leader was that I got to watch him interact with high school kids and witness the overflow of love he has constantly pouring out of him. Oh, and I loved watching him in skits (or being in them with him). He can do the best accent for about .4 seconds of a skit, and it somehow just always manages to fall right back into his Ohio twang. And he was always funny. Which somehow managed to make things awkward? Which made things funnier.
BK taught me how to do ministry for high school kids and not for any other reason. He taught me what it takes to have a focus like that. He taught me that it's fun to explore and go on spontaneous adventures. That you don't always have to do things by the books. He taught me how important a prayer life is and he knows how to challenge me in my walk with the Lord. He is an amazing example of how a Christ-centered man should treat people. BK loves everyone. Everyone loves BK.
Brian is moving to San Francisco, California, to do web developing for a company called Imgur. He's a freaking computer genius. And this is a really great opportunity for him. I can't wait to see what the Lord has got in store for him.
Those are my cos, awesome in every little way. I'm gonna miss them like a sandbox misses sand. Never gonna say goodbye. Just see ya laterskies.
Margaret and Brian are (were?.. no. forever are) my co-leaders at Nelsonville-York High School, where we lead YoungLife. Over the past two years of being their friend and over a year of being their co, they've taught me more about life than I ever thought I would get in all four years of college. They can make me laugh and aren't afraid to wipe my tears. They've been such a huge part of my college life that I really can't even stand the idea of them leaving and growing up to be all successful and adult-like. But I guess I'll have to get over that.
I met Margaret my very first day of college. I remember I liked her right off the bat because she was as short as me. And her name was Margaret. It wasn't long before I realized that the feisty and spunky personality that hid inside Margaret was never really hiding. It was always on the surface ready to make an appearance, although it probably wasn't until after I started leading with her last year that I got to experience it for myself. One time I made some playful but snarky comment to her and after I had turned away from her, laughing at how funny I was, I felt a zing up my neck. It was then I realized she had punched me in the spine. Like I said. Feisty.
Margaret is always fun to be around, but she's the most fun at about 2 o'clock in the morning. That's when she's hungry for Union Street Diner food and really really giddy. So naturally, it wasn't uncommon to be at Union Street Diner on a Saturday at 2am and be really really giddy with her.
One of my favorite memories with her was one Monday night when she gave a really kick-ass club talk (can I say ass and club talk in the same sentence?) and on the way home through smartphone technology, saw that our high school kids were blowing up facebook and twitter talking about how great her talk was. When we got back to campus we all just got out of the car, hugged in a circle, and cried. Man. I seriously loved that night.
Margaret loved to talk to me about her life, and I loved to listen. We had so many great talks, just her and me, on the way to the high school or to a sporting event. Some days it was quiet, and those were nice too. She has the most comfortable car I've ever been in. I fell asleep too many times to count on the way to and from Nelsonville. There are pictures, unfortunately, to prove it.
Margaret taught me to not take things for granted. To make the most of my time at OU. She taught me about confrontation and that speaking your mind is almost never a bad thing - if you say something wrong, people will get over it if they really love you. She taught me perseverance in leading and a few of the million aspects of the power of prayer. She reminds me to never put God in a box. He's way bigger than we think he is and can do way more than we could ever imagine. She's taught me most of these things without even knowing it.
Margaret's moving to Des Moines, Iowa tomorrow to work with newspaper design. She's super artsy and talented. I can't wait to see what God's gonna throw her way next.
I also met Brian on my first day in Athens. Everyone called him BK for short because his last name is awesome and begins with a K and ends with assouf. I forget who introduced us, but I remember it was awkward after they did. BK is one awkward dude. And everyone loves him for it. I especially do. BK told me he liked my shoes. I liked his beard, but I don't think I told him that.
One time Brian and our friend Maeve took me to the ER because I was having some major tummy issues. He did so much for me that night. He even stayed with me in the room where they ask you all the awkward questions about how long ago your last period was. We played with the doctors toys to pass the time. I remember him laughing at how loopy I was getting after the medicine started to kick in. I was laughing too. He was good at making me laugh.
One time he stayed up all Friday night and Saturday so he could act in our 48 Hour Shootout video. He didn't have to. But he did.
One time he and I "broke into" the skit closet at Rockbridge during leader weekend and put on dinosaur costumes and danced around on scooters in front of our friends.
And more than one time, we enjoyed hot apple cider on his roof, prayer sessions, making spaghetti (the most recent time was for a YoungLife club where we made 29 pounds of it in one day...I just like to brag), worshiping at 180, and lots and lots of laughs.
My favorite thing about BK being my co-leader was that I got to watch him interact with high school kids and witness the overflow of love he has constantly pouring out of him. Oh, and I loved watching him in skits (or being in them with him). He can do the best accent for about .4 seconds of a skit, and it somehow just always manages to fall right back into his Ohio twang. And he was always funny. Which somehow managed to make things awkward? Which made things funnier.
BK taught me how to do ministry for high school kids and not for any other reason. He taught me what it takes to have a focus like that. He taught me that it's fun to explore and go on spontaneous adventures. That you don't always have to do things by the books. He taught me how important a prayer life is and he knows how to challenge me in my walk with the Lord. He is an amazing example of how a Christ-centered man should treat people. BK loves everyone. Everyone loves BK.
Brian is moving to San Francisco, California, to do web developing for a company called Imgur. He's a freaking computer genius. And this is a really great opportunity for him. I can't wait to see what the Lord has got in store for him.
Those are my cos, awesome in every little way. I'm gonna miss them like a sandbox misses sand. Never gonna say goodbye. Just see ya laterskies.
Shameless plug:
The company Brian is working for is a website, imgur.com. Go check it out.
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