First World Problems

This morning I want to sleep in, but the sound of lanscapers with weed whackers wakes me up at 7:00 AM. I roll over and cover my ears with a pillow, but it does little to drown the noise.
First world problems

Around 8:30 I fight to get out of bed in my chilly room. Our AC is set to a comfortable temperature, but all the cold air seems to collect in my room keeping it well below the thermostat setting.  I end up wearing a sweatshirt inside even thought it's nearly 100ºF outside.
First world problems

Today I need to drive about a half-hour to the FAU main campus in Boca Raton to submit some paperwork.  I start my car and notice that the gas light is on, so have to I stop at a gas station. Regular unleaded is $3.62 in Davie, and I brace myself for the hit to my credit card.
First world problems

I arrive on campus and wait in the Human Resources office while they help another student. She doesn't have sufficient ID with her to finish her tax forms.  The HR employee says that her parents will probably need to express ship her passport to her so she can finish her paperwork in time to start her job.
First world problems

As I listened to NPR on my drive back to Davie, the scheduled program was interrupted to broadcast Secretary of State John Kerry's address regarding intelligence collected in Syria.  I had seen headlines about recent events but hadn't read the stories.  He described the aftermath of a chemical weapons strike led by the Syrian government that killed over 1,400 of their own people, and he stated that the U.S. is carefully considering how to react (but lets be honest, with our track record, military intervention is inevitable).

In pop culture we use the phrase "first world problems" as a meme and a joke in recognition of the inconvenient non-problems we so often encounter and occasionally let ruin our days.  And, really, they are some of my favorite jokes. Today, I began to consider our real first world problems.

I don't have a comprehensive understanding of our foreign policy.  But we are undeniably a nation with strong influence over the rest of the world.  How hard must it be for the government to weigh our roll in international affairs?  It's easy to say we should mind our own business and let a country resolve its own civil war.  But can we turn a blind eye to the slaughter of innocent people?  If we intervene are we agitating the problem or will we send a definitive message that chemical weapons have not been tolerated in nearly 100 years?

Real first world problems exist on an individual level as well.  Instead of landscapers, I could have been awakened by artillery fire and missile strikes. Instead of cold air, my room could have been filled with poisoned gas.  And, as a woman, my desire to continue my education and pursue a career could be met with disapproval and persecution instead of support and encouragement.  I live in a country of privilege for no other reason than I was lucky enough to have been born here.  Sometimes I feel guilty because I don't know how I can personally use that status to make a difference for someone who might not be so lucky. That is my real first world problem.

As Kerry finishes his address, I finally notice that I'm about to miss my exit.  I merge across three lanes of traffic and barely make it.  Then I realize it's actually the wrong one.
First world problems.

The Eve of Grad School

My slightly scattered life state has contributed to my lack of blogging.  I had difficultly organizing my over-active thoughts.  During my short time in Florida, I applied to grad school, was accepted, and got ready to move again.  Over the last few months my excitement and nerves battled each other.  I get to work in the Everglades! I'm ready to go back to school! But will the other kids like me? Am I smart enough? Can I afford this?

But now I'm here in South Florida. Tomorrow is my first day of class at Florida Atlantic University.  I recently reminded myself of a favorite quote: "Nothing in this world that's work having comes easy." (yeah... it's from an episode of Scrubs...)  I'll do fine in class, but it will be hard.   I'm sure I'll make more friends, but it might be hard.  When I find it, my project is going to be awesome.  But it's going to take a huge effort.  And I'm going to drive a fucking fan boat.

Tomorrow is my first day of grad school.  And I'm going to rock the shit out of it.

A Letter To The City Of Gainesville

Dear Gainesville,

I never imagined I how much you would mean to me in so little time.  Last November, I moved down to get exposure to southern ecosystems and eventually work my way to grad school.  I didn't think I would move on this fast.  My work at UF was the last piece of my puzzle I needed to get accepted to Florida Atlantic University. I'm both nervous and excited.

But I'm sad to leave you.  I just got here.  Just established myself and felt settled.  I've learned that I can still make strong friendships.  That I can let myself be emotionally vulnerable.  I've become more confident with my bike on both roads and trails.  With the friends you gave me, I canoed the rivers, hiked the forests, and swam in the keys.

Now it's time to pick up and move again, to South Florida, just on the edge of far away.  I'll miss you, Gainesville, but I'll fondly remember the adventures we had together.  And don't worry; I'll be back to visit.

Take care,

Michelle

P.S. I've shared some pictures of our happy memories:

Mike and our Spaniard friend, Davíd taking tree cores on Blackbeard Island

Mike examines artifacts from a lost time found in Osceola National Forest

Work Wear

Sherry and Marissa after finishing the Seven-Mile Bridge Run. Team "No Bus Of Shame"!

My going-away party:

Aaron

Jesse and John

Jenn

Chip

Soul Massage

My alarm sounded at 7:21 this morning, and I hit the snooze alarm. Before it could go off again, Sherry texted me, "See you soon." I had agreed to meet her at 8 so we could go run at San Felasco State Park. But I don't even get up for work this early. What the hell was I thinking?  I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on my running gear, and met at her house.  We chatted on the half-hour drive up to the park, and I began to wake up.  But just as we turned towards the trails, the sky opened up and it began to rain.  Hard.  Puerto Rico Hard.  I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to get out of the car.

Sherry planned on running for 1 1/2 hours; I was only going to run for about 30 minutes.  Filled with more ambition than I had, she took off.  I stayed in the car attemting to muster enough will and waiting in vain for a break in the storm.  I knew I needed this run.  I've been nearly sick by the thoughts plaguing me lately.  A story on NPR was enough to push me over the edge that if I didn't go now, I might start breaking things.

I cranked Lupe Fiasco on my iPod and took off. Most of the paths at San Felaso wind though an old oak forest.  But I chose to follow the two-track road through a grassy pasture. My brain already felt claustrophobic; I didn't need the trees closing in on my body too.  Rain drops ran down my head, my face, shoulders, arms, legs.  Before long I was soaked. Yet, it was a calming warm rain, a shower that washed away some of my tension.

I glanced at the pasture with low rolling hills.  In the rain it seemed beautifully still.  By the time I finished running, my shoes and socks were completely saturated.  I removed them before walking back to the car.  They only provided a foundation for blisters at that point.  Puddles in the road were ankle deep and the soft soil massaged my feet.  I reached the car and raised my hands in the rain like Andy Dufresne at the end of The Shawshank Redemption.  My run was a small endeavor, but today, adjusting my mindset was a grand accomplishment.

Foodie Pen Pals - April 2013

It's Foodie Pen Pal reveal day once again!  This month I received a box from Nicole.  I asked her to send snacks that would be good to take on a camping canoe trip, and she did not disappoint!

• Peanut butter almond granola - This is really tasty and great with my yogurt! 

• (SHELLED!) pumpkin seeds - I've had an affinity for pumpkin seeds lately.  I loved that these didn't have the tough shells to gnaw on.  

• Veggie chips - An addictive medley of dried carrots, sweet potato, squash, eggplant, and my favorite freeze dried green beans.

• Hickory beef jerky - So good that I had to ration it so it would last me all weekend!

• Spoon bread mix -  Nicole is from a town in Kentucky that is famous for their Spoon Bread Festival, and she included a mix with the rest of my snacks.  This was the only thing I didn't take camping.  But it was perfect to bring to a potluck at my friend Erin's house.  The result was somewhere between cornbread and grits.  This was the first time any of us had tried spoon bread, and it was a big hit!

Spoon bread fresh out of the oven.  Delicious with mini burger kabobs!

Thanks again for everything, Nicole.  Your box was an absolute delight!

My Foodie Pen Pal recipient this month, Mary, doesn't write her own blog.  So I invited her to write a guest post about what I sent her:

"I received a great box in April from Michelle from Florida.  My box contained the ingredients for the "Everything Soup",  It is a combination of Minestrone and a Pasta Fagioli.  It is something I will definitely be making."

I hope you enjoy your soup, Mary!

A picture that Mary sent after her box arrived

If you want to lean more about Foodie penpals, check out the link below! It's been a really fun experience :)

Why I Cheer The Anthem

There is a tradition during Chicago Blackhawks home games to cheer enthusiastically while The Start Spangled Banner is sung in the United Center.  It's a tradition that started in 1985 during a playoff game  against the Edmonton Oilers and was solidified during the 1991 NHL All-Star game hosted in Chicago.  That year, the United States had just entered the first Gulf War days before the All-Star festivities.  What resulted was an emotion-filled reaction to the National Anthem, and the old Chicago Stadium echoed loudly.

This tradition is still alive and thriving.  Chicago has finished this lockout-induced abridged regular season with a record that seems almost too good to believe.  And here we are, on the eve of the 2013 Stanley Cup Playoffs.  It isn't easy being a token hockey fan among my friends in Florida.  But it's given me the chance to ask myself, "Why do I cheer the anthem?"

I've watched hockey with my dad for as long as I can remember.  I'm sure he had me in front of the TV as soon as I could hold my own head up.  He raised my brother and me to be full-blooded Blackhawks fans.  We both had sweaters for our favorite players and played rollerblade hockey in our driveway with one of our neighbors.  And the three of us lamented as one-by-one all of our favorite players were traded.

My brother and me circa 1997 with our Eddie Belfour (30) and Chris Chelios (7) sweaters

In high school I found myself always busy with choir rehearsals, two-a-day swim practices, traveling for concerts and swim meets, and still somehow finishing my homework.  I caught parts of games when I could.  And every summer I still watched the Stanley Cup Finals with my dad.

When I left for college, I started a slide that seemed to parallel the dismal state of the Blackhawks franchise.  I let myself become trapped in a social situation in which I gave up too many things that I enjoyed and hockey was unfortunately one of them.  But I began to break free and rebuild myself around the same time Rocky Wirtz began to rebuild Chicago hockey.

I graduated college and started my first job at Notre Dame.  Still a little shy, I overheard some of my co-workers talking about hockey and found courage to interject myself into the conversation. Soon, we were all drinking beers and watching games at the Mahons' house or Jerde's apartment.  And on June 9, 2010 we watched the Chicago Blackhawks win their first Stanley Cup Championship in 49 years.  I convinced my dad to reschedule a meeting with his company's attorneys and come with me to the parade in Chicago.  It was one of the most surreal days of my life, and I'm so thankful that I share it with the person most responsible for my hockey knowledge.

Me and my dad (lower right corner) in the middle of Michigan Avenue with two million other Blackhawks fans

Hockey has been a common denominator in my adult life.  It's still one of the few things my dad and I talk about.  Even with our differing political views and communication styles, hockey is always there.  And I'm not really sure that I would have developed as strong friendships with the people I worked with if I wasn't a hockey fan.

Now that I live in Florida where hockey fans are hard to come by, listing to WGN radio streams and watching the few nationally broadcast Chicago games has helped me feel connected to home.  I've even gotten a few of my friends interested in watching games too (or maybe they're just humoring me).  Either way, hockey has been and will continue to be a part of my life.  In the words of Johnny Weidemann, "Let's send it down to Jim Cornelison and the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner.  Enjoy the anthem, everybody!"

LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!  LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!  LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!

The Ides of April

The ides of April are upon us, my friends.  And I've done a piss-poor job of trying to blog everyday.  I actually wrote a handful of drafts, but never quite pulled the trigger to finish them.  Some of them I still might publish with a post date.  For others, I think the time may have passed.  Maybe I was trying to force the issue.  Or maybe I was just too busy and/or lazy to carve blogging time.  Oh well, reflections are sometimes a living entity without a deadline.  This last week has been pretty exciting, and I think I'll be more apt to put fingers to keys.  One thing is for certain: I'm excited to see where the rest of April takes me.