What's New? 2010 Edition.

It's been a long time since I've posted. For whatever reason, I thought that graduating from Georgetown while taking on more work would still leave me more time than I had in my previous life season. I guess I feel like I don't have much to share. But I do have some "exciting" happenings from the last few months. Some of which are actually exciting.

(1) I apply to be a Canadian! 

After two years of waiting to hear about Canadian Citizenship application, I found out that I was granted dual citizenship! But that they sent the documents to my old address in Florida! And that, because I hadn't changed my address I would have to reapply completely!

So I reapplied a few weeks ago. And it was arduous. But Mimi loves Canada because of the Avonlea books and because of Robin Sparkles from "How I Met Your Mother." I love it because my dad's side of the family is from the very-Acadian New Brunswick community of Grandfalls. And I like gravy on my French fries.

Communion Confession

Context: I take other people's religions seriously. I am religious, I work with the religious and did my recent master's thesis on Islam. So then I am placed at my grandfather's (very Catholic) funeral. While I am baptized Catholic, I'm not confirmed and thus am ineligible for communion according to the Catechism. Thus the situation unfolded...

The French spoken at the service is not Parisian (my grandfather being an Acadian), but I can still catch a bit of it. My grandfather by the way was a Jedi Master-level Knight of Columbus. They had uniforms, swords out--everything. During the service it comes time for communion, and while not Catholic, I am aware of the Catholic tradition of the "blessing." With the "blessing," a non-Catholic can approach the priest during communion and receive his, well, blessing without taking the bread or wine. To note that you would like the blessing, you simply cross your arms. I explain this to my wife and sister.

So communion begins and I approach the priest with my arms crossed. The priest offers me the communion bread. I pat my hands against my shoulders to emphasize ("Blessing!").

The priest seems to consider that maybe I don't understand French, so in broken English: "Take...my body..."

Tales from DC: Senate Security

Every semester, we ask students to go in teams on a scavenger hunt of the city. One of the stops, inevitably, is to the office of the senior senator from their state. Last semester, a team ended up at a Senate office building going through security when the alarm went off on the tall, male student in the team. And the alarm at the Senate is no joke, it's loud with lights and booming speakers: WAHN WAHN.

Security (moving toward him with the wand): "Sir, do you have any keys, loose change--"
Student: "Oh! Keys..."

He goes out of security, puts to keys in a container and heads back through. And the alarm goes off again. WAHN WAHN.

Security: "Sir did you take EVERYTHING out of your pockets?"
Student: "Well...I still have my cellphone."
Security (agitated): "Sir, please put your cellphone in the tray as well and come through again."

The student goes out of security, puts the cellphone in the tray and comes through again. The alarm goes off again. At this point, a crowd is forming. Security uses the wand and wordlessly passes it over the students belt. Beep beep beep.

Student: "Oh...yeah, my belt..."

The student leaves security again, takes off his belt and walks through again. The alarm goes off. WAHN WAHN. Again. Security uses the wand and stops over his feet.

Security: "Son, are you wearing steel-toed boots?"
Student: "Ahhhh....yeah."
Security (long pause): "How did you get here?"

Questions followed related to whether the student had ever been on a plane or entered any sort of government building.

Places and Spaces: Sunshine

This was taken on the boardwalk of Winchester, VA. We were there visiting some old friends of ours who call it home.

Places and Spaces: Broken Love

This was taken at my sisters new apartment. Birmingham, AL.

Mia and Me: Why My Dog Drove Me Crazy And Why I Miss Her

Mia at our apartment in Chinatown. Washington, D.C.

Mia and I didn't get off to a great start.

I grew up in a house with over-affectionate, lick-lick-lick German Shepherds and Golden Retrievers. When I was dating a very hot Baylor girl (who is now my wife), she expressed that she wanted me to meet her dog. Sure. I would have followed her anywhere.

Mia came into her parent's house in Texas as a part of a pack of animals that included Oliver "who has a weird eye condition" and Suzy "who's totally blind, by the way." They ran for an overflowing dish of food. Mia, a Cocker Spaniel, managed to nudge her way in between the two other huge dogs to eat. My girlfriend (Mimi) invited Mia over and Mia was very excited to see her. Mia took one sniff of me, stared for a moment and then ran back to her dish. I felt slightly snubbed. No licks?

"She likes you," Mimi said.
"I couldn't tell."
"Oh, she scared to death of guys. At least she came up to you."

Almost six years after our initial meeting, I held Mia in my arms at Friendship Animal Hospital as our vet euthanized her. And I held her long after her heart had stopped and the vet had left. I cradled her head which was covered in the tumor that would have strangled her painfully within weeks, if we didn't put her down gently.

Now our house is emptier in her absence. The garbage stays in the can. The tennis balls are packed up in a small bag. No one barks when I go to take a shower. There are no new mystery stains on our couch.

Forecast for Washington this weekend...