Happy New Year!

Life in 2009. Hard Rock Cafe, Miami, Fl.

P.S.

Miami looks better on TV.

2008

I love coming home because it always reminds of how everything is so relative. Happiness. Beauty. Love. Life is relative. What one person wants the other detests, what one person prays for another runs from.

I just talked to my cousin. While everyone is writing about the best of 2008 he's writing about the worst of it. He's the last person in his family or will be. His mother is dying. I heard the pain in his voice and I felt stupid for lamenting over the things that I have. He has lost his father, brother, and is now losing his mother. This world is unforgiving and ruthless at times. Just plain hard.

He told me he thought my number had changed because I had been in Africa and then I remembered that I had been to a place so far away.

I miss living life relatively. Relatively simple. 2008. What did it bring me? It brought me more questions, less understanding, and a heart that feels more than I ought to.

But its all so relative.

Fear and Anxiety

I am scared. I say this because I think other people are too. I don't know what the world has to hold for me or when the stars will align that will allow me to be the writer I want to be or the good person I need to be. But I can't really fake like everything is okay and I think I've learned that its better that way.

Lauren Hill's song, "I find it hard to say" has been on replay for the last month. And it's not because I'm sad about a relationship or because I am somehow insecure it's because I find it hard to move past the craziness of this world and just live life like everything is easy.

I envy people who can not feel bad after reading an article about one of the top twenty papers in the U.S. going up for sale. The alternative: shut down the paper and fire everyone. Story here.

Now I am an optimist. I have to say this because my beginning was sad and my following evidence to why some may really be left in tears. But I know this will all get better but the question is when and what will we have lost as a result. I get asked all the time, why do you want to go into journalism? It's a dying business and everyone is losing their job.

But after bursting into tears minutes before a job interview, I can say because sometimes you just know what's for you. I know writing is my passion and whether it takes me two years or two months to do it I will. But it's hard and I wanted to acknowledge it because there isn't a place for me to share my stories with other young journalists. My competition is faceless and its struggles anonymous.

Either way, I sometimes find it hard to say I am doing well. I'm scared but optimistic.

Georgetown Students On Election Night

Just some photos from election night 2008.

Terrance De'Shawn Davis the First

It's been a very long time since I last wrote. I guess part of me knew writing here would mean admitting that life was going on far past the death of a friend.

I dedicate this post to Terrance De'Shawn Davis the First.

I avoided the topic. Looked at some of the last pictures I posted on blog and didn't think I should write past them.

Part of me thinks I don't have the authority to write about Terrance. I wasn't his best friend. I didn't spend hours with him on the second floor. I was never in a play with him and I don't sing in REL. Maybe someone out there thinks the same thing... Maybe you're reading this and wondering if you ever really told Terrance how special he was. I asked myself that a lot.

But as the days have dragged on and the hill top has continued, I can't help but stop myself when I do things that Terrance would scoff at. I can't roll my eyes at people for being mean, I can't hold on to grudges the way I want to, and I can't dwell on things I can't change. I stop myself when I start to get caught up in the small stresses that Georgetown can easily foster because I realize I got to say good bye to an angel last month. And then I love Terrance in the type of way you can only love someone when they're not around...

I don't have an essay to write. I can't. I can just say that I'm seeking to be better and striving to get past the small things. I realized I love Georgetown for giving me the angels to call friends.

And even more, I love God for placing me His will.

I doubt myself. There you know my secret. But beyond doubting myself, I remind myself that I have been so blessed. Blessed in life, in family, in love, and the list goes on....

I guess this sounds like a ramble but I'm happy and I can't place the joy. It's not a superficial smile or "I'm fine" when you know you're not, it's an unspoken peace that everything will happen in its own time.

I find myself trying to remind myself of this happiness by going to Terrance's facebook page. I try not to be sad when I look at him and all the others who still write on his wall but I miss him. But then I know I'm being selfish . . .

I miss you too Terrance.

What I Miss

So I'm back in the United States and I'm going to try not to be too emotional. I'll just list the things about Botswana and my life there that I miss.

1. The friendships I made including Eddy, Rudo, Clive and Sarah
2. Master chef sessions on the couch with Sarah
3. Being brave enough to think about writing as a life style
4. Not comparing myself to what Georgetown says is success
5. Asking myself hard questions
   
6. Trying to get off the combi and saying "Ema mo stopo" all wrong
7. Eddy's mom's home cooking
8. Teaching students and learning so much from my students
9. Pie City's Chicken Peri Peri Pie.... Mmmm
10. Rooibos tea-- Why didn't I take some with me?
11. Screaming into skype with my mom because the connection was so bad
12. Dry weather
    
13. Zebras soccer
    
14. The Poetry: at UB Writer's Workshop, at Kwest, with Exodus, and with friends
15. Being myself with friends who I could take the time to hang out with
    
16. The calmness of it all
17. People never understanding what I said because I speak too quickly and the look on their faces when I repeated and they still didn't understand
18. The moments when my friends and I would have to stop our conversation to explain to one another what one word meant to me versus to them
    
19. Mogul's Indian Food (and later delivery!)
20. The hilariousness and frustration of talking to people and not getting a response
21. The time to think and learn
22. The slow pace, and the appreciation for quality of life
23. The classes and students who thought of the world in a way American students don't
24. And maybe pretending to be Siamese twins . . .