Ashburn, the latest frontier. These are the voyages of adventurer Heather; her continuing mission to explore strange new worlds. To seek out life for her suburban family, to boldly go through foster care adoption.
This is the story of a hungry girl. A graduate student in search of some sesame chicken and fried rice. A girl who wishes she had just had peanut butter and jelly.
In January of this year, I ordered food through an online service called campusfood.com. They had stores that delivered, and I didn't feel like going out in the rain. The chinese food place on the corner near the Metro had a menu online and I chose my favorite.
About an hour later, a good fifteen minutes after the intended delivery time, I called the restaurant to confirm they were delivering my food. I was a mile or so outside their delivery area, so no, they were not delivering my food.
I asked the woman (of course with limited skills in English) why no one called to tell me they weren't bringing my food. "We no do that," was the response.
She said that at least they could take the charge off my card, or I could come and pick up my food. I said I would be right there (really hungry). She kindly ask…
Yesterday there was a career fair at school. I am pretty excited about some of the organizations I talked to. There were political organizations, leadership groups, theaters (business side - I'm not reverting back to my performance roots yet), and a film company. I have an interview to be a potential tutor or summer camp counselor this coming week too (this is actually on the far end of my radar at the moment, but I'm not shutting any doors just yet).
All this career fair activity has me thinking about the future. I try not to worry about it, because everything will fall into place when it's supposed to, but it is still a little intimidating. It seems like the choices I make now will alter my future much more drastically than they ever did before or can again.
Is this really what I am meant to be doing? Is this really what I want to be doing? Is there something bizarre in the fact that I am writing a thesis on science communication and none of the organizations I tried…
As part of an assignment for my management class, I am reading the original 1911 book by Frederick Taylor on efficiency in the workplace (The Principles of Scientific Management). It is 66 pages of pure joy I tell you. (This is limited sarcasm ... it is pretty interesting in a nerdy way.)
One interesting note is that his system calls for an employee in a factory to literally plan ways for the factory workers to be more efficient and comfortable in their work. I thought the idea of having an ergonomics specialist was pretty funny - since I am generally under the impression that people should observe ways to make their own job easier and then do it.
However, I realized I had a friend in France who actually did this as her job. And then I remembered all the detail she went into making sure the employees got their stuff done. And so, I think to myself, "Thanks Sophie! Because of you, this concept makes alot more sense!"
(Hugues ou Alice, si vous parlez avec Sophie, dit-elle m…
Merci, merci, merci ma famille francaise! Votre pacquet etait bien recu. Le livre est un prefere de moi aussi. Il est arrive au moment precis que j'avais besoin d'un sourire. Jusqu'au mai, c'est sur que je suis occupee (donc, mes lettres moins souvent). Mais je pense de vous toujours, et les pensees me donne espoir et un sourire. Je vous adore, tous les quatre!
As usual, I'm behind on blogging at exactly the time I'm doing something exciting and adventurous. So here is what I owe you (as a reminder list for myself on Thursday):
My new business suit Executive Women in Gov't Conference Potential future jobs Pictures of my cousin's show Philadelphia with Theresa Georgetown Waterfront dinner Monuments downtown (DC) with family and friends Bracketology Real Irish dinner Wild times in the apartment " " at Cleveland Park Bar & Grill " " at Rumors (near Dupont) How I spent my spring break doing homework at an e…
My cousin Clark played the fabulous duo Flute/Thisbe in his high school's production of A Midsumer Night's Dream. It was a musical version blending original scoring by the director and arranged pop/broadway tunes. The whole thing was really incredible.
I left my camera cord in DC, so I'll post them when I get home. The set was gorgeous, as were the costumes. And Clark, in true family fashion, was a show-stealer.
The trip up for his show made it possible for me to get a little vacation time this spring break. I know the whole break is supposed to be mine - but I do have a thesis and a paper and two books to read (not to mention some catch-up reading). So I am enjoying the Philly suburbs (Jersey side) with my cousin and his parents.
Yesterday, my aunt and I went to Borders and I got what I hope will be my management free-read book. She also has me reading Crank, which is a novel completely written in a stylistic poetry format. Some are concrete (many actually). You sti…
Tomorrow I have to go shopping. Shopping is like getting blood tests done - it sucks thinking about going, going is a pain and you have to attempt patience, you go in this little box of a room for the worst part of the procedure, the stupid thing is so tight it almost hurts, and then you have to pay for it.
I think the only good part is that once it is over, you don't really have to worry about it anymore. Until the results come in (this is an awful lot like your credit card bill). I have luckily, almost always walked away unscathed and with pretty good results. But it sometimes requires multiple stabs to get it right.
Tomorrow I again set out to be a pincushion.
My sister thinks this is a horrible analogy. I'm not particularly fond of thinking of anything as if it were a torturous situation - I'm really not. But I really don't like shopping, and I found out tonight at 10pm that I have to be wearing a business suit on Thursday at 2pm.
If someone is going to kick you when you are down, you usually have two options:
1. Take it
2. Stop them from kicking you however you can
I myself have created a new option: Not getting down in the first place.
Unless it is an actual physical fight, the only person who can belittle and hurt me is myself. As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." And I refuse to be inferior.
I recently asked, "How many times are you supposed to turn the other cheek?" Well, I'm stopping turning by taking a step away instead. I pride myself on always standing my ground, but not every battle needs to be fought.
I feel a little like Will Turner (in Pirates of the Carribean) when Jack Sparrow pulls out a gun. Will says something about him not following the rules of engagement and Sparrow says: "Pirate!"
The truth is, I have been battling a particularly awful pirate for some time now. (This is not to say - in any way, shape, o…