Argentina 6: Not Quite the Sunshine I Packed For...

I fond this on my Mac. It's a bit late, but I decided to post it anyway...

We are now heading south to just above the most southern province of Argentina called Patagonia—if that makes any sense. Patagonia is land of blowing blizzards and cold, cold, cold right now because the seasons are opposite south of the equator. When it’s summer in the States, it’s winter here.

I got out of the van yesterday and almost froze my tuckus (butt)!! They said that it would get a bit nippy during our orientation, but I thought nippy would be 65-70 since it still is “summer.” But no. It was 53-55 degrees and the wind gave me goose bumps. I donated/lost my warm mini-jacket so I’m down to one nice jacket.

THEN, I opened up my suitcase last night as I was getting ready for bed and I just stared longingly at my recently purchased and really cute swimsuit and favorite pair of shorts. Guess I won’t be wearing those while here. I did buy some alpaca sweaters in the mountains a few days ago, but my intent on buying them was to be cute back in the States in September—more of an attempt at being in the cool group of Western culture. So when people say—“Oh! I like your sweater! Did you find it at the mall?” Then I will answer with as little smuglessness as possible, “No. I bought it in the Andes Mountains.” But now, I’m thinking that I will need to wear my sweaters out of necessity—because it’s actually cold. Oh the perks of studying abroad.

Argentina 5: A Wishful Dream, Chaco Roller Coaster, Non-Chocolate Andes, and Gettin' Splashed

Yesterday, I had another really vivid dream. This time I had flown back to the United States after about a week in Argentina saying that I needed a break from South America. While there, I wore a really cute dress, had shaved my legs, was on my way to making Tamale Pie (my new fave dish), and had a really sick (aka cool) fro, was wearing contacts and sunglasses, and was sitting in the front seat of Mom’s gold van marveling at how smooth our journey was because there were no bumps in the roads in America. I texted my friend Alyssa which I do constantly and almost to excess—almost—and waited and waited for her to text me back. Then I realized she was in Costa Rica (which she is) and was really sad. Then I woke up and found myself in hotel in Formosa, Argentina. Alas…one day I’ll be back in America. But I’m still so happy to be here.

We have officially made it ½ way in our journey across the top half of Argentina. We are going in a REALLY BIG circle counterclockwise. We’ve visited some pretty cool places and have done some pretty cool things and now we are on our way to what my professor claims is the most beautiful city in all of Argentina.

Speaking of my professor, he seems to know a lot about Geography and every time something is mentioned about a part of the world, he says, “Oh yeah. That place is really neat…” I just found out that he’s been to 176 countries—and there are only between 206-215 countries total depending on who you ask and who likes whom on any given day. 176?!?!!! Man! My adult goal was to visit a country a year and to have a significant experience (a very vague and undefined term at the present) while there. But at my current pace, I will be 193 before I see 176 countries. I will need to bump up the pace a bit. So I’ve changed it to making an international trip every year and having a significant experience in each country that I visit. I don’t just want to take a guided tour, but I want to live, even if for a day, like the citizens/natives there. So far I’ve accomplished that in my four countries—Canada, Belize, Mexico, and now Argentina. Anyway, I digress.

We just crossed the most bumpy part of the trip in what’s called the Chaco. It looks a lot like…a mixture between Kansas aaaannnnndddd…a place with a lot of dry trees and shrubbery. I’m not a nature person at all, but there were these really pretty flowers with a dark brown middle and were bright yellow on the outside. We’re driving so I can’t get any good pictures of them. I think they might be called daisy-susans or black-eyed-susans or lazy-susans or something like that. I don’t know, but they were growing wild on the side of the road. For about 30 minutes, my butt got some significant air-time—it was pretty fun for the first 27.5. Almost roller-coaster-esque. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel the steel track under your coaster car at Six Flags. After about 30 minutes of that, it was finally smooth enough for me to take my third nap in the van.

An hour later, I woke up not to the smell of Folgers Coffee, but to the Andes Mountains. They were way off in the distance and had a blue tint to them on the horizon. So majestic and awe-inspiring. We got out of the van to take a pee-and-eat break and my professor says—“You think those are big, just wait ‘til you see what’s behind them!” He’s been saying that we’ll see some snow so I’m pretty excited about that. I just hope I can find my socks! They’ve been missing for 3 days now.

BTW: I think we’re in the middle of the layers of the mountains now because the mountains I was describing in the last paragraph are now behind us. Dr. Keeling said that the mountains are in 3 layers going east to west (or west to east) with each layer getting bigger. So looking at a map of Argentina, we are going east to west through the Andes and are currently in a valley between the first set of mountains and the second set. If I were to take a wild guess, I would think the 3rd set would have snow, but I wouldn’t take my word for it. I have no Internet access now and can’t look it up on Wikipedia ☺
2 or 3 days ago (all the days are in a blur), I saw one of the most incredible sights I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s a system of waterfalls that is like Four Corners in the US (Colorado, Texas, Nevada, and Arizona meet at one stoplight—still on my list of places to take a picture at), but it’s at the corner of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay. It’s called Iguazú Falls and is one of the largest waterfalls in the world. We took some trails and walked over several waterfalls. Thankfully, the geniuses who made this place tourist-friendly back in the 1960’s made walkways through much of the park so that you could actually see this masterpiece without getting in a helicopter.

After about 3 or 4 waterfalls, I actually started getting pretty weepy because it was just absolutely breathtaking. I couldn’t believe I was actually here getting misted and sprayed (lightly) by this site. Then I started thinking, “Wouldn’t it be cool to stick my toes in the water?” But oh well.

I had heard rumors that there was a splash boat thing at the beginning of the trip and I was on a mission to get more information about it. At lunch, I saw a sign and talked to the guys about it. They said it was a 12-minute ride for $25 American. My limit for this adventure was $50, so $25 was an EXTREME bargain! I grabbed a couple other guys to go with me and we made the trek to the bottom of the park to catch the boat.

I decided in my head to not wear the poncho that they were offering. I wanted to get as wet as possible cuz I knew I would never be back here and had to take in the whole experience. We got our waterproof bags to put our stuff in, I switched into my handy-dandy $10.50 Crocs, and bound onto the boat. They started off slow and moved to one of the “smaller” waterfalls and got us pretty wet. Then they went to the Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat)—appropriately named and we got DRENCHED!!! I squealed and the rest of the boat yelled/screamed/etc. Then we pulled up to the dock, and there was another boat docking. The group on the boat started yelling a phrase that pretty much meant “Encore!!” and the boatman obliged and we got drenched again and again and again! 2.5 times more than we paid! What a deal!

I feel sorry for the tour guide when I go to Niagara Fall for the first time in my life because I’ll walk under the falls when everyone is ooh-ing and aw-ing at the sight and think to myself—“Y’all ain seen nuthin cuz I’ve seen and got sopping wet at Iguazú!”

So Jesus blessed me with this incredible sight and I not only got my feet wet in Iguazú Falls, but I got soaked to the bone and refreshed in mind and spirit way down in God’s creation.

Psalm 19:1-4 “(1)The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. (2)Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. (3)There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. (4)They voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.”

Argentina 4: Chocolate Drops

Black Count: 21

I decided to count the Black people that I pass on the streets while I’m here in Argentina. Now there are a few rules to this game. #1: They have to have my kind of hair (capable of a fro) or relaxed hair that used to look like mine. #2: They can’t be mixed to the point where it’s hard to tell that they’re Black. #3: I prefer to count Black Americans, Africans or English-Speaking Black people, but that’s just a preference.

When I went to Mexico, it took 3 weeks before I saw a Black person. I was looking too!!! I was in an area of cafes where there were probably 500 Mexicanos. I scanned the area to find my next snack and cup of tea at dusk. Lo and behold! Way across the crowd, I spot a chocolate drop! I told my group, “I will be right back!” I weaseled my way through the crowd (with some quite fantastic Jack Bauer moves, I might add) and ran up to this Oklahoman woman. I told her that I had been here for 3 weeks and she’s the first one I had seen. She looked at me and laughed and enjoyed her mono-paparazzi, but that was my experience.

I'm very much interested to see how Blacks travel--and why they do. Statistically speaking, less than 1% of Blacks travel outside the country and even fewer do study abroad trips. I'm not exactly sure why either. It might be fear, because nobody else is doing it or creating a model to follow, or maybe they/we just don't know there are opportunities outside of our comfort bubble. The second reason I'm counting Black people is because even outside the country there is a common bond that we all share and I find that fascinating. In the States, we recognize the common bond using a head nod, a glance, a smirk... Outside the States it's the same--regardless of if you're Black American, African, or mostly one of the former. One of my friends said that it's because we all understand that we're in the same struggle and have the same heritage (roots) although our family trees have different stems, branches, and limbs. There are always exceptions, but this is pretty commonplace.

Here, the people are so well mixed because of their history. Argentines feel like they are displaced Europeans. People have come from all over and their skin tones are absolutely breathtaking. There are Jews, Muslims, French, Natives, Germans, English, Spanish, on and on and on. I enjoy watching the kaleidoscope of the epithelial layer. Family trees are crazy. I talked to one guy who’s grandparents are Italian, Native Argentine, and Spanish. I’m just Black—but I like being Black. Therefore, I’m counting Black people.

That’s all for now.

JLP

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN!!!

Argentina 3: Red Dirt, My Empathizable Digestive Tract, and a Mandito for the Police

Sandwich Bamboozlement

I woke up from my slumber in the 3rd row seat in our van to a gas station with Red Level, Alabama dirt. The kind of red where if you inhale when walking through a dust plume and get an MRI of your lungs, the physician would be able to see the once clear lungs covered in red soot. Like red red… Like blood red red…you get the idea.

We all piled into the Argentine-Shell-Wanna-Be and purchased “lunch” which I will discuss in story #2 of this blog. When we all walked in—all the Gringos (White Americans) plus the Chocolate Drop (Me), the workers had a look of perplexity and shock—why are they all here in the middle of nowhere not able to speak Spanish? So we’ve figured out the best way to tell how much we owe is by typing the price into a calculator, then they show how much we owe and we pay it. Not difficult. There were tons of sandwiches to choose from in this mini-Shell. Most of the students got one and then went to go sit and eat. Like we always do, we wanted to see how much we paid for our food and who got the best deal. Little things are entertaining when you’re on the road for long stretches of time. We soon found out that we were bamboozled! Some sandwiches were MUCH more than others and the workers there used our inability to decipher prices and speak Spanish fluently so that they could get extra profit.

Lunch at an Argentine Gas Station

So bad dieting. I’m not a fast food, snack food, or processed food in bags sort of person. I would love to make enough money to spend half my paycheck and not be homeless at a Whole Foods, but alas…I’m broke and my current state doesn’t look like it will be changing any time soon. I’ve had two lunches in gas stations in the past two days. I’m really empathizing with my digestive tract right now—I hope it’s not angry with me. So in trying to translate my lunch choice options, I came up with very bad things in which to ingest. Also, I don’t eat pork or cheese. Lucky me—the only sandwiches available were ham and cheese. I don’t think this country is very big on health bars with soy nuggets and brown rice syrup. I had to get next best thing: Lay’s Potato Chips, shortbread cookies with chocolate, and apple juice. Vegetables, bread, milk, and fruit. Perfect! No more griping. I could have starved tonight so I am grateful for my well-balanced and nutritive filled sustenance.

Frisked

Yesterday, while I was the unconscious passenger in the back seat (I actually drooled sorta today—it was bad), we got to a crawling speed. No big deal—another toll booth. I went back into SleepVille. Then I felt the van pull over to the side of the road. “Hmm…this is new.” I’m awake now, but my vision is quite fuzzy. They asked a few questions. Then they asked to see all of our passports. 3 minutes later they come back to the van and tell us that we have to get out of the van with out luggage. Oh no!!!
We pile out of the van with our backpacks—and tell them this is all the luggage we had (not the case at all). They stand there are ask us tons of questions. Then they pick 5 students randomly and take them to their Police Docking Building to be searched. About 15 minutes later, we were good to go. Then they asked to see the driver/program director. They take him back. When he returned he was hot and mad! They made him pay a fine because his lights were not on—an Argentine traffic thing. The fine was $300 pesos or $75 American dollars. He had asked for a list of grievances against them and they were quite reluctant to show him that and to give him a receipt for the fine. Basically it was a bribe to the police—a mandito. I think they just were hungry for lunch and used us for pizza money. Oh Latin American Justice.
We all pile into the van again and are ready to get on the road after being frisked by the police. THEN we start the engine and to no avail. The battery is dead. Fantastic. So we all wondered if it’s ok to go ask the Argentine police for a jump after they had just finished searching us for drugs. We decided against that idea. I don’t know what happened after that. Something about the van being diesel and some light needed to be on…that’s all manly mechanic talk.

On the road again.

That’s all for now.

JLP

Argentina 2: Not Considered a Priceless Jewel and ShantyTown

BIENVENIDOS A ARGENTINA!!!

I have made it safely and yet again I realize how Spanish a Spanish-speaking country is! Imagine that—Spanish.

I am proud to say that I have officially survived several things in my two days being here—of which I am sure I will have to survive again.

1: Drivers who don’t consider you a priceless jewel as they would in the US—probably because Americans have a predisposition to suing the living daylights out of you if you even contemplate running them over. So if you think that you will possibly be able to spare your life by crossing at a specific time, just wait—they have a tendency to not see you standing very obviously in the middle of the street.

1B: Another odd street thing: I actually saw one native here, beat the trunk of a car in a traffic jam so that he could get through two bumpers. So I’ve adapted the rules of the road here: When not sure of the rules—be like the Argentines and beat cars and run real fast!

2: Everybody is SO stylish here! I’ve seen a Lacoste, Christine Dior, and some other store names that I don’t—and probably never will—have in my closet. I like their color combos and the cuts of their jackets and sweaters and such. It’s only 68 degrees here right now, but they are dressed in November-esque coats—not snowing, but nippy. I don’t think they could handle the degreed weather of true winter where you don’t want to open your mouth cuz your spit might freeze while trying to make it to class on time.

3: The train makes me VERY sleepy!! I tried to stay awake to see the different areas of Buenos Aires today, but each way on the 45-minute route, I would fall asleep at exactly ½ way. Dang! The landscape ranged from makeshift living arrangements called “ShantyTown” to elitist mansions fit for a King—or embassy ambassador. The most unfortunate and most perplexing sight I saw while on the train was a man on the 3^rd floor flat on a very new and chic MacBook Pro talking on his BlackBerry—overlooking abject poverty in ShantyTown.. Oh the irony. I wonder what he was thinking about. Did he even see them at all? Who knows.

4: I am realizing how regional food names can be just plain surprising. Just to get it straight—I don’t eat pork, prefer no cheese (lactose intolerant), and I don’t eat/like eggs. Today, I ate ravioli which does have cheese—I didn’t see the chicken option—and I had flan which is egg-based. Epic fail. I do try flan every 5 or so years just to see if I’ll change my mind on the taste/texture/egginess…Yet again—no point for the Flan Team.

4B: My most interesting food intake was yesterday when I ordered a “Tortilla With Some Unknown Random Words” after it. I was expecting maybe a burrito—something with a corn or flour tortilla. Out comes a Potato and Ham Omelette. Bliss. It was real pretty, but I traded for a steak.

Argentina 1: 72 Hours and an Empty Suitcase, but I Got My Crocs!

I'm sitting on the couch and quite perplexed at my inability to start packing for Argentina...did you know I'll be leaving the country in less than 72 hours?! What happened to the convo where I said-- "Oh yes...my trip to Argentina this summer...Yeah I know...two months away...yeah...real soon..." 72 HOURS?!?!?!!! UGH!

I have officially bought out all the travel size everything at Target and Walmart...Jesus worked a miracle and I found Crocs, the shoes, for $10 by mistake and divine appointment. I'll tell you that story.

I really needed water-proof shoes. My last pair served its last day in Mexico and are probably now on some needy person's toes in Morelia. I knew that Crocs would be great and lightweight, but they are also $35 and NEVER on sale--cool stuff doesn't go on clearance. I searched the entire mall for them and to no avail. Super sad. I asked at the last store if they knew where I could buy some and she recommended I try Dillards.

Dillards?! Land of way-expensive stuff? I never go there cuz I'm too broke to even breathe their air. I graciously accepted her advice and made the death march towards the store not fit for the Broke College Person. I go to the shoe section and the lady points me to the Crocs. I saw they had a cute pair--hmm...These might work. I asked the lady--"Are all of these $35?" She proceeds to affirm that. I go to find my size--8, 8, 6 (who wears a size 6?) ...10...Wow! They have my size. I slide them out and turn them around to find the price. Are my eyes deceiving me? Could this really be? No way!!! On the back of the only pair of Size 10 Crocs is a clearance price that says $10.45!!! TEN DOLLARS AND FORTY-FIVE CENTS! Before I do the two-step Baptist dance in the middle of Dillards, I went to ask if this could be a mistake. The lady rolls her eyes when I ask her if the Crocs were on sale-- "Crocs are never on sale." I wanted to tell her--"Well you don't know my God!" I brought her my treasured Crocs and she says--"Well there must be a mistake, but I have to give them to you for this price."

When there seems to be no way, God steps in and BAM! sale.

No more dreads! No more dreads!

It’s 6:13 in the morning and I’m ready. Today is the day. I am taking out my dreads.

Started this journey almost 6 months ago. My dreads were supposed to stay in for 8 years or until I turned 30, but that’s not going to happen. Just shy of 6 months is enough.

I didn’t realize then what I see now which is that my growing dreads was a extrinsic sign of my intrinsic transformational process. It was an “I have no idea what I’m doing with my life so I’m going to grow dreads until I get some answers” kind of thing. I didn’t know this was why I grew them until about March (I got them November 20). Now that I have my answer that I was looking for, I feel that it is time to take them out.

What is my answer? Simple. My answer is “I have no idea.” 4 words. I can now rest assured that I’m completely clueless and that is fine by me. If you need more insight on this, read the blog entry under this one.

Now, I’ve chosen today because this is also my Mother’s Day gift to my Mom, Denise. I know she’ll read this so “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!!!” She’s a pretty awesome lady—you should meet her one day.

I’m getting into the shower now and will post pics throughout this process hopefully.

Dreads—I shall miss thine…You have served your purpose well…and it is time to be retired.

6:55—Just got out the shower and I got sad. I’m excited to see how much longer my hair is compared to my last fro dated Nov. 20. With lots of conditioner, peanut oil (next best thing in the cabinet to olive oil—hopefully…), prayer, and sunshine. Inhale…exhale….inhale…ex…hale…

Around 2:30—I’M DONE!!! Almost 8 hours later, all my dreads are out.

Around 7:30—I found another dread in the back of my head and almost felt the urge to say a bad word. The nerve of my head to do a magic trick like that!

Sunday Morning Around 10 am—I just got out the shower. It took 35 minutes to comb through my hair, but there should be no more tangles. I found a cute dress at JC Penney’s and am going to wear it to celebrate my First-Fro-Post-Dreads Day. My head is SOSOOOO sore!! I don’t want to even touch it anymore! But what’s done is done and I’m excited. I feel accomplished and can’t wait to show the world natural hair—big, wild, unexpected, and super curly.

How My Ego Resembled Grapes

Well, the semester has ended, summer will commence as soon as I’m done writing this paper. When I think about the assignment, a “Self-Actualization/Personal Enhancement Project Final Paper,” my heart is filled with so many emotions—happiness, sadness, confusion, purpose, and the list goes on and on.

This semester has completely bruised my ego. Ego is great when it’s used in the right place. According to Merriam Webster Dictionary Online, an “ego” is “the self especially as contrasted with another self or the world”. So what exactly happens when an ego is bruised? Again I consulted my favorite dictionary and to “bruise” is to “break down by pounding”. So to “bruise an ego” would be to crush one’s image as it is compared to people and things outside of oneself. That would precisely be my semester.

Now is this necessarily a bad thing? It depends. Most people like grapes which can be bought at any grocery store. However, only when grapes are crushed and fermented and left to their own devices (a seemingly violent and depressing process) will their insides transform into a smooth-tasting, dinner-enhancing beverage that is sought after in the most high-class circles of society. One can buy grapes for $1.50 a bunch, or one can buy wine for a minimum of $4.00 a glass—sometimes reaching up into the thousands for four ounces. Wine cannot be created unless grapes endure bruising and crushing, and I cannot be enhanced without the same. This is where my personal enhancement and self-actualization commences.

I began planning for this semester back in December. For the last week before a new year and before my birthday, I do a self-assessment to see where I am currently and how much I’ve accomplished on my life list. It works out pretty well because my birthday is in May, which is almost ½ way between Decembers. I had all my ducks in a row. I was going to be the best TA (teaching assistant) I could be, read more, laugh more, study Black people and culture in a hands-on way, and a litany of other things. One of the endeavors I was most proud of was my Education Policy and Ethics class that I would be taking that following semester. I had been planning for YEARS to be an education policy analyst. When I found that title, I was convinced that was where I was headed and knew I was going to love it forever. There would be no need to ever look for another type of position—ever. I had studied resumes of analysts online, knew where the jobs were, and several pathways to get there. This class was going to be my “Intro Into What I Will Be Doing For Life” class. I would ace the class, love policy even more, and know where and in what I would get my doctorate degree.

Now enter my ego. I somehow got into my head a long time ago that I needed to be superior to everyone and everything in the world. Now this has been tapered down over years, but that inkling of needing to be great in all things is still there. I want to be first and best. There’s nothing wrong with choosing to be great in all things, but what is your standard of measurement? If it is yourself, great—there is no ego there. However, if your standard of measurement is others’ lives, then you will constantly be trying to outdo other people, which leaves a path of hurt behind you as you accomplish your personal goals. This is what I had been doing and this pattern had to stop. I could have eventually attained all that I wanted to attain in life, but there would eventually come a time where I would be humbled and would have to backtrack through my path of destruction and meet all those people again whom I had hurt. But in this process, few would be willing to help me because I had hurt them. It’s better to build than destroy.

My ego was not necessarily in what I had accomplished, although God has truly blessed me with some incredible experiences and a great looking resume. It was rather in being able to plan out my life and finish what I had set out to finish. I told everyone that I was going to finish my degrees, what schools I was planning on attending, and what internships in which I would take part… In some circles this type of conversation would be fine, but where I was living, these outlandish goals and ideas and plans were so daunting and intimidating that people would set me aside as someone who had nothing in common with them. This is where I found comfort—as a separatist fluffed up with myself. My goals of being great had trampled on others’ dreams of being great. I had trumped their plans by making myself look amazing.

Now enter the beginning of my semester and my process of “bruising”. I was sitting in my education policy class in March and I began to think about my life. I was listening to the professor and I thought to myself, “I really don’t like education policy.” Shocked and amazed, I repeated this to myself over and over. If I didn’t like this class, then this is not where I’m supposed to be in life. This six-word sentence escaping from my neural pathway was a declaration to myself that my plans and my ideas and my goals and my dreams were nowhere close to my true purpose in this world. What in heaven am I to do when my whole existence, which was being an education policy analyst, is now in shambles? I was back to square one. People everywhere who knew me for being the Life Planner couldn’t believe that I had no plan. All I could say in response to their “What are you up to these days, Jenaya” questions was, “I have no idea…”

What did this do to me? It made me who I am in May 2010. I am now for the first time in my life able to rest assured in the idea that Jesus holds my future and that He knows where I am supposed to be. My plans have been drowned in His grace and I am “just chillin” in the Sea of His Purpose. I know that sounds quite cliché, but there’s no other way to put it. My self over this semester has been actualized not in six words, but in four—“I have no idea”. What a freeing thought to know that one’s entire existence is not placed in a finite and imperfect being—myself. This way of life is currently incredibly stressful—but all new things are stressful.

The book I read for my personal enhancement project was called “Embracing the Real World: The Black Woman’s Guide to Life After College” by Chaz Kyser. She at one time was a new graduate and wrote about her challenges in life after college. I wish I could say that I followed all of her steps so that I could be prepared to conquer the world after I graduated—which was my goal in my project, but I can’t. I am still completely clueless as to where I will end up in my life. This book was supposed to help me create a strong, indestructible pathway to becoming the great and might policy analyst. It was supposed to help me be that great woman in Washington D.C. in my condo with a small window box with basil and cilantro growing in it. But that’s not the purpose I obtained this semester.

What exactly did I gain from my project? I gained a lot of peace and assurance that my future will be full of opportunities to serve people in a variety of custom-made opportunities. I began thinking about my life and the neat things that I have done, and I noticed one thing. They all fell in my lap. I did have to be in places where I would find out about the opportunities, but they all just happened. Why did I think that if I stressed and lost sleep over choosing what to do with my life, that I would get “bigger and better things” when in the past it was not so? So, my new theory, which I will be trying from now on, is allowing Jesus to place things in my lap. I figure that He knows what my life direction should be and knows how to get from Point A to Point B and C and Q and R since He’s looking at my life from a bird’s eye view and not my forest trailblazer viewpoint. By doing it my way, I’ve gotten more pudgy around my midsection from inhaling boxes of Apple Jacks when stressed, more pimples, a bruised ego, and much disappointment. In choosing Option B—Jesus’ way—I’ve gotten trips to Mexico, Belize, soon to be Argentina, almost 2 degrees paid for by Jesus, great friendships, opportunities to make an impact amongst my peers, and great nights of slumber. I think I will choose Option B for life—it just makes more sense.

One of the last questions that I will answer in this essay is where I see myself in 2, 5, and 10 years. Respectively, I will be 25, 28, and 33!!! I’m so old. At 25, I would love to have my second Master’s completed and actually maybe get a job—imagine that! In 5 years, I would love to be married to an incredible man that God promised me long ago, working in my community, and enjoying my friendships and family. At 33—I can’t even think that far in the future. Menopause I guess… But seriously, I will love watching my little squirts (kids) grow into the people they were meant to be when they grew in my womb, observing their legs run on soccer fields making goals when they used to kick me in the bladder all day. It’s quite hard to imagine life after 30.

One day at a time. One moment at a time. One conversation at a time. This is how I’m living my life now. Enjoying people and making my mind others-focused and not “resume-trumping” are my way of life now. And I have to say, I prefer it this way. My bruises are healing and hopefully my ugly ego will be depleted of all its hot air and nastiness. I want to be Jenaya—the one who is filled with purpose and love for others, is fun and vivacious, and has a unique spin on life and a bunch of spunk. This is the Jenaya that I am striving towards today. That Jenaya is who I will be at 25, 28, and 33. That Jenaya is me.

Surprise! To Be Continued...

There have been a lot of surprises lately. I’ll try to recapitulate what has happened in the past two weeks. I would have blogged about it during the tumultuous experiences, but my attitude wasn’t fantastic and it would have shown through my writing. Didn’t want my readers to think I was a non-cussing heathenous, mal-attitudinal, person.

My time line is skewed. A few weeks ago, I was waitlisted for Costa Rica. I was planning on going with one of my best friends from Murray. It was going to be her first Study Abroad trip and I hadn’t ever been to Costa Rica. Well, I got an email back saying that I was waitlisted because I missed a set of application forms and they were late. Alas.

I emailed Mexico’s director wondering if I could do an internship there, but I chose not to do that because I had already done the program there. Wise words of my Mother.

Then I emailed the Study Abroad director and he said that there might be room in Argentina. I told him the only way I’d be able to justify this would be if I could get graduate elective credit. According to the website, they didn’t offer it. But it was worth a shot.

I told him that I was interested last week around the 23^rd of March. He emailed me back at 10:30 saying that he would check. My mom and I prayed about it and surrendered up to the Ultimate Franklin Covey DayPlanner Jesus. If it was meant to be, I would be going.

So! The next day @ about 1 pm, he emails me back and says that I got the LAST SPOT on the trip! AND the trip would leave from NASHVILLE!!!!! Which is an hour away, not 4 hours where Louisville is. AND THEN, I am officially signed up for a Cultural Geography class. I was telling Jesus when I was in underground how cool it would be if I could take another geography class. Look what He did!!!

I am officially going to the land of the really big statue on the hill that you see on the Discovery Channel, the land of beef (where it’s really what’s for dinner), and tango music/dancing. I’ll let you know how the dancing goes.

Surprise! No Costa Rica.
Surprise! Yes to Argentina.
Surprise! Graduation in May 2011
Surprise! Almond milk is amazing.
Surprise! Jesus is more amazinger than almond milk.
Surprise! I’m still black.

That’s all for now.

JLP

Why My Mother Needs Another Allotment of Awesome Points

For years, my mom ironed. I would go take a nap on some days, wake up, make dinner, and watch a TV show and she would still be ironing. She’d have a pile and a look of contentedness on her brow as she served her family and the world by ironing. She would magically transform wrinkly cloths into masterpieces WITH creases.

So yesterday, I was sitting on my dorm bed (which I will be sitting on until May 2011, but that’s going to be explained in my next blog entry) and a Voice from Above told me I needed to iron. I didn’t listen for about 20 minutes, then I slowly arose from my throne and pillow and picked out 4 pairs of pants and 1 shirt for this week’s professional attire that I would be donning. As my iron heated, I found my starch and unfolded the ironing board. I went really slow so I could psych myself into the ironing process. Yay for chores!!!...??

I successfully ironed my first pair of pants. Second. Third…. Fourth. Then I needed to quit. I had a flashback of my mom with 20 shirts and 10 pants with that contemplative look on her brow.

“I must…I must…I must…continue.”

About ½ way through my first shirt and last item to iron, my starch-applying right-index finger started speaking to my brain telling my cranium that it was no longer interested in spraying starch. My abs were sore from swaying back and forth, back and forth with the gliding of the iron. My ears were sore from listening to the starch burn itself into the straightness of my pants. My feet hurt. My back hurt. My eyes even hurt.

Although my pants and shirt experience was EPIC success, I am quite grateful that I am not required to do this job to eat.

So…with all that being said. Thanks Mom!

JLP

Thought #2 and #2.5 from Life Plan: I'm On a Boat

*This is my Hermano (Brother) John. I do not condone this video, but it is quite entertaining.

2) Life Plans create tension as a result of the war between flexibility and rigidity. I am not trying to say that not planning is going to get you to greatness. I’m a strong advocate for having a planned out map of where you’re going. However one bad idea would be the mindset of “My Way or the HIGHWAY!” and ulcers and heart attacks usually ensue in these type people.

One of my favorite “books” is a road atlas—because it shows you exactly how to get anywhere within the limitation of state lines and the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean. Technically you could take the mathematical route to get where you want to go REALLY fast which would—according to some old white guy—be the straightest line. However, there was some unknown soul long ago who took note of the terrain and chose based on his experience and care for the road traveler to pave a road where it would be safest, most beneficial, and most logical. That’s why through mountainous areas, the road is curvy and you have to drive slowly. Someone said that’s the safest way to cross the terrain. How not-smart, callous, and egotistical it would be for someone to throw away the map and believe that he/she is way smarter than the surveyor without ever being in the area. The “my idea trumps all” is a great way to “done get dead right real quick!” Nobody makes it very far without at least considering and respecting an already made road as the wisest choice. How unwise it is for me to try to force my plans—be a trailblazer through unknown, and unsafe terrain when the Life Surveyor (aka Jesus just in case you haven’t figured that out yet) has already made a road for me to walk on through challenging life areas.

2.5) Another thought on Thought #2. When my brother went on the family cruise, he propagated a hit song called “I’m On a Boat” by Lonely Planet and T. Pain. This quite vulgar but censored song was a song about nothing. Three guys on a boat. That’s it.

I was at church last Sunday and this song popped in my head when the preacher was talking about Paul being “On a Boat”. Now of course, T. Pain was probably not on the boat in his day, nor did they make t-shirts that show how cool it is to be “On a Boat”. Paul’s primary means of transportation was on a boat that went through hell on high water but eventually got Paul to his purpose—which was to show Caesar the truth of Jesus and how to start a relationship with God. One thing I learned yesterday was that I have to:

1: Get on the Boat. I have to realize that my life is made of purpose and is worth sacrificing the stability of land and do something daring.

2: Enjoy the ride. Paul’s boat probably made him wonder if the destination was/is really worth the stomach ache and the crazy waves—a Nor’easter storm of epic proportion. He knew when he got on the boat that it wouldn’t be comfortable, but he kept the end in mind and coped with the agony of the waves.

3: Accomplish the End Goal. Paul didn’t ever forget about his meeting with Caesar. He survived the boat ride and he was able to achieve his calling.

Being the Pauls of the world is never easy, but it is most definitely possible. I think that my boat road will take me places that I would never have expected, never would have dreamed of, never would have planned for, and never thought would be able to prepare me for my destiny. But lo and behold! In just a few years, I will be able to say: “If it wasn’t for my crazy boat ride, I would have still be on shore staring at my long lost and unattained destiny with Caesar!”

For more info: See Acts 27.

Thought #1: The Little Circle O-Thing--EPIC Fail

Well, I have a confession to make. I did as I promised in the blog entry before last. I sat down with a blank piece of paper and a book underneath it. I scribbled a little circle O-thing in the corner—just to make sure my pen was working. I inhaled. I exhaled. Repeated the breathing process again. Rolled my eyes. Sighed. Then got something to eat. That was the end of that.

So my goal of completing a Life Plan was definitely deemed Epic Fail. But through this whole process I figured out a few things. This blog entry is dedicated to the First thing I realized about my Life Plan...

1) My life exists to serve. When I was thinking about moving to DC to get a condo, a window box garden, life supply of organic food at Whole Foods, standing reservation at Starbucks every morning, and a posh job somewhere as an entry-level clerk at some place fun, I realized one huge, monumental no-no I was about to commit! This seemingly brilliant plan is rooted in two things: ME and MY PERSONHOOD. Although my job would be very outward-focused (I would be changing lives and livelihoods, right?), never have I or did I mention serving others as a reason for going to DC. I was interested in making my life as amazing on the outside as possible—so that people would think that I’m cool and chic and hip. So Jesus asked me when I was writing my Life Plan, “Where exactly in the Bible is your agenda located?” My answer to Him was what I wrote on my paper. Nada nothing. *Alas.

Phenomenal Woman--That's Me!

I shudder to think that my words and Maya Angelou's are written with such close proximity, but nonetheless. This is one of my favorite poems by her because it shows who/what women are--they are Phenomenal. You can't be an inspiration to anyone until you are an inspiration to yourself FIRST! It's a prerequisite.

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/phenomenal-woman/

A Poem I Wrote

I'm not one to write poems--at least I thought I wasn't. But I was daydreaming in class and found putting words together quite therapeutic and fun. This poem I wrote a couple years ago as I was riding in a car through the Kentucky woods. I dedicated it to my Great-Grandmother, Edith Toussaint, who turned 100 last week.

If They Struggled Not

I drive past where people used to run

Run not for medals

Run not for pleasure

Escape danger hope

People

Those people

Black people

My people

Individuals ran through the beautiful scenery

That I see now

If they never ran I would never have seen

If they never feared I would never have dreamed

If they never dared I would never have studied

If they never hoped I would never have stood

Did they ever think that at the end of these woods

Lived a young girl

Creating her own legacy in 2008?

Unnamed stepping stones

For the good of a whole race and way of life

Unnamed faces

Blazed the forest trail

for thinkers

Doers

Finders

Lovers

Mothers

Of now and tomorrow

Knowledge of past is not the end of my journey

Just cuz I know what they did don' mean nuthin!

I take their speed

Agility

Purpose

Their torch

I press on

Daring

Praying

Hoping

Fearing

Their cries beckon me

To remember and never ever forget.

What a travesty,

A waste of history if I don't acknowledge

Thank

Hope

And follow their whispers

Recorded by the trees they passed

"Dream,

Make me proud.

Hope with poise,

Run!"

Til later...

Obama's Health Insurance Gift Certificates, Short/Long-Term Plans

Last question! I had to, for my class, devise short and long-term activities to help me achieve my goal of greatness from my Self-Help book by Kyser. Here's what I came up with:

1: This weekend, I am going to sit and write out a Life Plan. So many things in my life—plans for Summer 2010 and Life after December—are in the air. I need to write all the things I’m thinking about down on paper so I don’t forget the little ones, “minimalize” the important ones, and make a big deal out of things that aren’t big deals. I don’t have degrees where I can say “I’m going to medical school, therefore I will be a doctor”. With an Organizational Communication degree, I can go into literally any field and do something. Such decisions! As for long term, I would like to see how far my Life Plan can take me. I don’t want to totally stick to it because I might miss a great, unexpected twist in life because it wasn’t on my Life Plan. However, having it on paper will be helpful in taming all of my lofty ideas.

2: 1) I have an appointment to meet with a woman professor who has been recommended to me for quite some time now. I think she will have some insight and she will be helping me with my cover letter so I can finally apply for internships for this summer. Long term, I am hoping for at least 3 people in my life that are willing to impart their wisdom to me. I don’t want to just pick any one person and I also have to realize that they have to grow too—therefore I must not put them on a pedestal.

3: I already have a budget in place and I was actually under-budget (spent less money than planned) in January which is a good thing! I was really proud of myself. A short-term goal with this one is to see how much I spent for February and compare the numbers to January. I should also figure out which health insurance plan I’ll need—this is when I think that Barack Obama needs to give out gift certificates at the Health Insurance Store so that I don’t have to pay premiums for a year. Alas… As for a long-term goal, I need to research how much life costs. I have no idea of the expenses associated with living on my own in a non-school environment. I don’t want to be totally surprised by these expenses because of my unrealistic ideas.

And finally for real--the last question!

What are concrete accountability measures to indicate you are making progress in carrying out implementation?

I think that a checklist will give me lots of accountability. I will also be blogging about my progress. I do want to read about this transitional stage of life when I get old and senile and 30. I also have my Mom who is such a great asset and keeps me on my toes. My main thing I need to focus on emotionally during this stage is staying calm and letting what happens happen. No reason to get overly paranoid about things I can’t help. Mailing applications takes time—so sitting next to the mail box waiting for responses from internship opportunities is not a wise use of sanity or time. My mind must stay occupied. Just like in the movie My Life, I have to let go on the roller coaster of life and enjoy the ride. Woohooo!!!!!!!

3 Things I Learned From My "Self-Helping Ourselves" Book

So this assignment, I have to list three things I can do as a result of my book by Chaz Kyser called Embracing the Real Work: The Black Woman's Guide to Life After College. I will be tracking in future blogs my progress on these three things. I think I will actually add a fourth...an extra treat to my Bloggers!

The first thing I need to do is to come up with a Life Plan. As I find all these “fun” things to do, I often get distracted with my true purpose. Lots of things are good ideas, but what is my great idea? And how do I get to my great idea? Of course, I should keep my options open, but it is far too late in the game to “wanna be a lawyer, firefighter, and a doctor” like we all said when we were knee-high to a grasshopper.

The second thing that I need to do is find a Career Mentor—or a Life Mentor. I need to find people to surround me who are where I want to be. This idea follows the purposes found in shadowing or interning. Seeking out people who have another angle on my great idea will alleviate most or all of my unreasonable expectations about the field, give me a road map to get to my great idea, and encourage me as I walk on that path to get to my great idea. Then, Kyser said to make sure that you give your Career/Life Mentor updates on your progress—you don’t want to be an advice moocher.

Thirdly, I need to practice budgeting now. I disagree with 50 Cent. I won't be abiding by his new hit "Baby By Me" which says "...Have a baby by me, Baby, be a milllionaire." I agree with my friend Andre "Skinny" Foster here at Murray State when as his status de Facebook, he said the lyrics should actually be "Have a baby by me, Baby, Be on WELFARE!!" I did sin and should prolly go to confession for skimming over his very heathenous lyrics so I wouldn't recommend anyone to skim over them. Trust me...it's bad. I do wonder how many ladies are thinking that they'll actually get his alimony check if they let him do Verse 1 and Verse 2 of his song on them. Alas! This pop culture is CRAZINESS! But I digress...

Since money has a magical chemical characteristic called disappearing, it’s quite important to at least have an idea of where it went. My mom is queen of this. She can balance her checkbook to the penny—if I’m within $50 and not in the red, it’s EPIC success. I don’t think this is a good idea when I am on my own. Since I have a miniscule amount of dinero now, it should be a lot easier to manage the amount and get the principles of wise money saving, spending, and tracking.

FOURTHLY, I have to be willing to be an entry-leveler. I can't expect to have a dream job or summer internship without digging through the trenches of monotony. I have to suck it up, grab the salts, and walk through the mud. Mud is thick too--and really messy, but necessary to build bricks. (Deep thought!) So although paper-filing, running errands, and other various office work duties may seem like it's conflicting with my dream of greatness, I gotta pay my dues and keep hope alive for my job of being in charge of people and having someone/subordinate/intern go get my Venti London Fog with decaf chai, soy, and sugar-free hazelnut from Starbucks because A: I don't have to, B: "I don't want to, and C: I served my time getting my bosses drinks.

Self-Helping Ourselves

So readers...

I know this seems like a cop-out, but I am copying my assignment answers for this blog. Why you ask? Because I like my answers. :) This is for my Developing Human Potential Class. We are supposed to be self-helping ourselves through the reading and reflecting on a self-help book. I'm also reading 3 other books (at least I'm supposed to be...). I am--believe it or not--getting off FaceBook to do my homework! Yay me! So here goes...

I chose the book Embracing the Real Work: The Black Woman’s Guide to Life After College by Chaz Kyser because this book is precisely where I am in life. I’ve been in school for the past 18 years and am not about to embark on a new journey—where there are no textbooks and no professors. I’m not a smoker, working on getting skinny, relatively calm most days, non-menopausal…it took a while to figure out where my self needed help. When I looked on Amazon, this book appeared with a light from above, and I knew it would be perfect! I may not be a smoker or a habitual liar, but I am PETRIFIED of my future—specifically my future beginning in 10 months…

I think by my being proactive—which is the first step in Covey’s book—is paramount in beginning a self-help process. You have to buy the book, actually OPEN it, and at least skim it, consider doing something that it says before it a self-help book will do you any good. I’ve survived all of those steps and am liking how I see myself in my future as a result of this book. Secondly, I have to Begin with the End in Mind” which is Habit 2. Here, I practice looking beyond my next step, whether that step be physical, mental, spiritual, etc., and look towards my future where it really counts. After looking there, I have to come up with a plan to get to the end destination—this destination is a successful 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd career.

In this 2^nd book, Unlimited Power by Anthony Robbins, it says that “[An] attribute great leaders and achievers have in common is that they operate from the belief that they create their world…” I’m not sure how wholly I believe in this ideology, but I do know for a fact that if I perceive myself as a victim in all circumstances, then I will always be 2 steps behind success and freedom from chains of subordination. SO, that means that I must take control over my world and learn to take precedence over my situations—good ones and bad ones.

In the 3^rd book, Top Performance: How to Develop in Excellence in Yourself and Others, Zig Ziglar talks a lot about how to be a leader in life. One thing I like from this book is the question: Why should anyone want to follow you (me)? My life is creating a social footprint in society. People should look back and know that I was here. That I did great things. Not-so-great things. In order to influence people, you have to be influential—one of those “DUH” things… So how does this question have anything to do with my self-help book? Lots. People should see me as an example and want to be like me—not all of me. But there has to be something in my life that is worth emulating and taking to heart—otherwise, what’s the point? So in my self-help pursuit, I am fixing a part of my life that will one day be worth emulating.

Wut U Iz On Campus?

I'm starting to like this blog thing now. It's kinda nice to end the day thinking about my day and looking forward to my next set of adventures that will start at approximately 9 minutes after 7 am aka after I hit the snooze button once.

I remember coming on campus last semester and all the students were trying to figure out who/what/how they were going to live their lives for the next semester/year. Everyone was making last minute class changes, figuring out social allegiances, and the freshman were trying to not look lost while the upperclassmen were rolling their eyes at the freshmen's overly inflated ego. My friends and I were walking to Winslow--the local eatery of such mass-produced bliss--and were bombarded with several young "boys' (not men) who were definitely persuaded to follow the BET-social construct aka "plain ghetto". Being quite loud for no reason, one of the boys yells at one of my friends, "Ey! Wut you iz on campus?" My friend was taken aback by the question--exactly what does he mean by that question.

Now at this present moment, she could have answered this question in one of several ways: I am a:

Girl,

Short,

Black,

Relatively smart,

A sister,

Not your wife,

Cute,

Funny,

Broke...

He actually wanted to know what year she was in school, but that only came from more probing on her part to see the actual intent of the question.

Stephen Covey talks about Identifying Roles in his book "7 Habits" on page 162 (just in case you're interested) and tells us that the first thing we must do in order to be effective in our daily lives is to notate who we actually are--to answer the question "Wut u iz on campus?" Now of course, we probably won't be using that lingo, and some of us are probably not "on campus"... But who are you? Who am I?

I may not have all the answers or all of "who I am". On Facebook as my Intro to Me Section, I have the following: I am SINGLE, SAVED, SANCTIFIED, SEXY, SASSY, AND SMART.

What else am I? Well, here's a list of a few ideas off the top of my head:

Follower of Truth in Jesus,

TA in Org Comm Dept.

Grad Student

President of Voices of Praise

Alto

Natural Black Hair Wearer

Exerciser

Music Lover

Sister

Daughter

Friend/Compatriot

Future Wife/Bride

Roommate

Listener

Facebooker--sometimes stalker when convenient

Nosey

Future-driven

Real sleepy right about now...

Like driving in a Jaguar on the Autobahn going 45 mph is the same as living a life with knowing the potential/purpose. The Jaguar will get in the way of those who know who they are, and what they need to be doing. It will also reach the destination...eventually. And the Jaguar can't enjoy the journey because it's not being challenged or stretched to its maximum capacity/potential.

I want to be a speeder on the Autobahn, reaching my destination right on time, and not getting in the way of others Moving Forward--a theme song of mine from Israel Houghton. But amazingly enough, this all begins by asking myself-- "Wut u iz on campus?"

Not Even a Plastic Spoon

I’ve officially highlighted some important ideas from the book “7 Habits of Highly Effective People”. This is one of the required reading books of my Developing Human Potential Class. The 7 Habits are as followed: 1) Be proactive, 2) Begin with the End in Mind, 3) Put First Things First, 4) Think Win/Win, 5) Seek First to Understand, Then to Be Understood, 6) Synergize, and 7) Sharpen the Saw.

I realized early, mostly due to my mother, that if I want something, it’s not going to be handed to me on a silver spoon—not even a plastic spoon. You have to figure out a way to get it. This always starts with a vision. Then comes devising a plan. After that comes implementation of that plan. If you don’t have a map, you’ll never get to your vacation spot. But you also can’t take just any map and assume it will get you where you need/want to go. You have to have the right map—this can come via a person, personal research, or just careful logic.

I chose to do the research. I have spent hours—days—poring over resumes trying to figure out where I want/am called to be. According to this book, this is a good thing as long as planning out the future doesn’t distract you from current tasks. The latter is something I struggle with. It’s so much more fun looking for jobs and new cities to visit than to do homework!!!

I’ve tried to be very strategic in my life-building. I try to find a connection between where I’m headed and all my activities so that they don’t become useless resume-stuffers. Now, I can say I am very proud of all the things I have experienced, done, and have been a part of. It’s mind-boggling sometimes. Not to say that I’ve solved cancer, but I have tried stewed cactus in Mexico, swam with Nemo in Belize, played a Rachmaninoff Prelude, and have made relationships with people from LOTS of different countries. All of that would be pointless if I didn’t have a purpose. All the things I’ve just mentioned are near and dear memories and have crafted me into the person I am today.

More later.

Not Just a Travel Blog Anymore...

It’s been 10 years since my last jerry-curl, 4 years since high school graduation, 1 year since my last purchase of sexy-butt jeans, 3 months since my most recent hairstyle (DREADS!!!), 6 weeks since my first cruise, 1 week since my last ½ solo in the choir, 3 days since I last shouted in church, 1 day since I drank my favorite orange juice, 15 minutes since I ate my last bite of 2-day old, mass-produced, cheesy, yellowy, mashed potato leftovers from Winslow, and 5 minutes since I started my new topic in my blog.

Unfortunately, my “travel-only” blog is going to be presupposed by a class assignment. I’m currently taking a very Dr. Phil-esque class called Developing Human Potential. I had to find an elective at the VERY last minute this semester when registering for classes. I was at a loss, and after much soul-searching and friend-asking, I decided to take the plunge into the wave pool of Human Potential. After a week in the class, I was UPSET because I wanted to develop OTHER people’s potential, NOT mine!!! The nerve of the professor to make us become better, more effective people so that we will be able to bring others through that process in our futures. Imagine that!