The good old days

Being on-call is not fun. At all. Suicidal Ideation at 3:41am or calls from doctors who are on their own schedules regarding a client’s last injection at 2:59am are just a few of my least favorite things about being on-call. But I’m glad I had some great company this weekend to help me through it.

Some good old college friends visited over the weekend and it was so great to see them! We met up in Georgetown for dinner on Friday night at Chadwick’s and then wandered over to some rainforest themed bar/restaurant for drinks. Then, on Saturday with some classic Lady Gaga playing in the background, we dug into a marathon of Agricola plus the new expansion pack!

The only game we can spend 5+ hours playing

Just like the good old college days in the Monroe Duty office, we collected wood and coal, bred sheep and wild boar, prepared for harvest, took occupations and made minor and major improvements to our pretend families. We took a break between games to have dinner at the packed and bustling Founding Farmers’.

I helped myself to some chicken and waffles and thought the food overall was just alright (my chicken was a bit dry and the greens left my tastebuds searching for more). After dinner, you can never just play ONE game of Agricola, so, until the early morning hours, we indulged ourselves in a little bit of the good old days with another game.

This was taken at 2:30am, can you tell?

Is this a food blog?

The Year of the (water) Dragon has started and I’m resolving to be better about blogging. Over delicious French-pressed coffee, friends and I have decided that blogging is not only a fun way to stay connected to others but also a great thing to have several years from now when today is nothing but a distant memory, a fleeting imprint like the last flickering flashes of a lightbulb.

I really like the fixtures in the bar area

My dear friend Claire was visiting from teaching abroad in Shanghai. It was great to see her and catch up on how different our lives are these days, in the real world. We met up Sunday night for delicious Korean BBQ and then again last night at my favorite pizza place in the District, 2amys.

I didn't forget that I love seafood

I’m addicted to the grana on this pizza (the Vongole), something about the pungent saltiness of the cheese and the mellow brininess from the capers and cockles makes it a hit for my tastebuds. The fried calamari with aioli we had for an appetizer was tasty, too! After dessert, we retreated to my den and had cupcakes from Sweet Lobby.

A cupcake is a cupcake

A classic Red Velvet, Salted Caramel Chocolate and the Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate cupcakes were all tasty. I prefaced, as we were sitting down to eat them, that these were no Georgetown Cupcake, and Claire wisely retorted that, “A cupcake is a cupcake.” I’ve had them all from Georgetown Cupcakes to Sprinkles to Baked & Wired, and I have to say, these are no less worthy of a hankering on a cold winter night, or any night, and will do in a pinch!

I feel normal

My three month anniversary at work is creeping up which means I’ll have health insurance again come the end of this month! Whether or not it’s good health insurance or not, at least it won’t change without me knowing again…

My life lately has been consumed by work and Korean pop stars. Maybe not even in that order. Who knew nineties pop music had moved to Korea when the new millennium came about and grew up and got so much better. All the fresh beats and perfectly synchronized dance moves makes me hit that replay button like no one’s business.

Several weeks ago, because I’m not the best at updating this blog, some friends and I popped over to the Tidal Basin and checked out the new MLK memorial.

MLK, Jr.

It was a strange experience, perhaps because it is a strange memorial — unlike many of the others on the Mall. Or maybe it was the strange time of day right before dinner. Or the fact that we were going to head to dinner at the Capital Grille (which was wonderful but way too expensive!) afterwards. I don’t know what I was expecting but I was underwhelmed; the space was smaller than I had expected and the actual monument is at once too literal and too figurative. I did like the wall of quotes.

Shouldn't this be everyone?

Wild Nights

Wild Nights–Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile–the Winds–
To a Heart in port–
Done with the Compass–
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor–Tonight–
In Thee!
– “Wild Nights,” Emily Dickinson

Boats by H. Holland

Kind, smart, and important

It’s the weekend and again, I’m having some trouble getting myself out of bed to do things like go grocery shopping. On a good note, fall is here, settling nicely in my basement room as a cool draft that makes me yearn for warmer summer days.

But no, I love the fall. Goodbye, summer!

Rose outside my window after the rain

Take it all with you

Three of my Consumers have broken down in tears during a session. One got incarcerated. Two became homeless. One might have cancer. Three are probably pill addicts. One might lose her three year old daughter. Three I haven’t even met yet because they have fallen off the face of the earth. One has questioned my qualifications to provide services. One has fired me. One believes she works for the Secret Service as a word decoder. Three are probably actively using. One is obsessed with rabbits. One spends all day watching Sponge Bob Square Pants. Two were molested as children. Three used to be prostitutes. Two believe they have no mental illness. One wet the chair she was sitting in because she didn’t ask to go to the bathroom. One has threatened to stab her sister.

Twelve are women. Four are men. Two are under twenty-five years old. Four are over sixty years old. I need about ten more to be at a full caseload.

I’ve driven over one hundred and fifty miles. I have been working for thirty three days. There has been one earthquake and one hurricane. I have billed over seventy hours. I have gotten lost four times. I’ve had one day off.

On a typical day, I’m either too busy to even each lunch, or have absolutely nothing to do.

“Welcome to the world of social work,” my supervisor says.

Thanks for the memories

My experiences at Christ House has taught me at
every community night around the dinner table with my peers;
every story from the passenger seat of the van on an outing with the patients;
every dialogue between moves in a checkers game with a friend;
every peek into my office or conversation in the sun room,

Christ House going away gift

how necessary compassion & gratitude is in our everyday interactions
with family, friends and, most importantly, strangers.

Look at me now

My time at Christ House ended nearly three weeks ago. Feels like months, though. I am now living in an entirely different part of the District and working at a new non-profit. It’s weird how quickly change happens! One day we’re all crying over cupcakes at our last community night together and the next I’m meeting new people who need just as much help as those at Christ House.

Cupcakes for our last community night

My year of service is now over but I’m happy to say that I’m still serving those who need it most (and also very happy to say that I have a paycheck! Still not making bank, but you get what you can in this economy). I’m two weeks into work and have already begun meeting what are now “consumers,” no longer “patients.” Their stories are no less painful than those at Christ House and their needs are just as great and I am so invigorated to start helping!

I debated on whether or not to keep chronicling my time in the District on this blog. I leaned towards no for awhile but then realized how important it is to keep track of things. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to post random animal pictures, like this duck. Stay tuned for another year in the District!

A duck at Gravelly Point

Retreat & Surrender

Spring retreat was full of time for reflection, sharing, and being. This year has come and gone and what remains will disappear before we know it; moments tenderly clinging to a whole that is barely holding on and is running out of time.

Make a wish

It’s easy to look back on all the positive experiences that have come from this year. All the worn faces that have come into our lives and changed it forever; the smiles with missing teeth, conversations in wheelchairs, walks on limping feet, and what will finally be waves of goodbye with hands still clutching canes. In the end, it’s the little things that matter.

A smattering of small white flowers

What I will take away from this year will be the relationships and the people. The friendships that have challenged me and changed me. The people who have shared with me their struggles and listened to mine. Things don’t happen over night and it has taken me all this year to understand every story the way it is meant to be understood, like the bitter taste of wine or the sounds of an empty house on a lonely weekend night.

Wine grapes at Sugarloaf Mountain Winery

The slave graveyard is tucked away on a small hill, surrounded by a few tall trees and crooked shrubs. The path is rough and uneven and most of my attention is keeping me from tripping. I glance to my right and see the majestic mountains, rolling across a blue sky into a distance too far away to see. My breath is caught and I am paused by the stillness of  the earth. And I think I have found it, the beauty of the countryside.

And then I glance to my left and the bright golden fields of wheat are at my feet and I cannot take another step because I am swallowed up by their vastness and all my thoughts are dancing to their rhythm, swaying in the breeze.

A flower on the edge of a field

It’s alright to get distracted because it gives you a chance to be taken by surprise by what you would have taken for granted. It lets you see the whole picture as you appreciate the smaller things.

Buckeystown Panorama at BCC

Questions & Answers

43,000 hours of work lay neatly folded in a cloudy ziplock bag on the table of the Sun Room at Christ House. Strewn among the days’ old newspapers, it is a map of Europe from the 1980s. Its edges are flimsy and there are holes where the creases of the fold-up map have been opened and closed countless times. Lines from a red-felt marker connect the summits of various mountain ranges from France into eastern Europe in the shape of a pentagram. And “near the center” is a single red dot.

“That, my friend,” the old man declares, “is the location of the Holy Grail.” He gives me a presumptuous look, eyebrows raised across a shaking forehead and a half-toothless smile on a wrinkled face. I smile back and ask why such an important map is just laying about.

“It’s only one of three copies that I’ve hidden away,” he answers cryptically.

I just laugh and welcome this old man back to Christ House after only being discharged a few weeks ago from a 6-month stay. A small man with a temper in impeccably polished shoes and ironed pants and flannel shirts, his neat exterior does not betray the madness that is within. Well, madness is perhaps a strong word. But this old man will tell you exactly what he is thinking, and often times it is something offensive and deprecating. According to him, the world’s never been right ever since that “communist, democrat Clinton was in office!” Everything from global warming, terrorism and the economy can be traced back to that administration (he doesn’t much like Jimmy Carter either, though).

While not the softest spoken patient to have come through Christ House, this old man somehow found his way into my heart. All those times we spent together on that “doohicky” (my computer) looking up tombs and paintings holding secret messages from the Knights Templar must have rubbed off on me.

On his first day back, he comes into my office and declares, with a smirk on his face, that the question is more important than the answer,

“Back in the early 1900s, do you think they knew how bats could fly around in the dark? The person who discovered echo sonar was the one who asked why those bats were able to do that. And it’s only because he asked that it was discovered. The answer was always there — but you have to know the right question to ask!”