Alright, it's been one week. Things are still challenging, but my perspective has changed. I have learned that 'learning to cope' is a privilege. If this is all I knew, I would have no difficulty; I would know no different. This being said, I find myself incredibly grateful for a myriad of things that are so simple, yet so missed when lacking. Case in point, this morning I am feeling grand for 2 reasons. 1) They served tea at breakfast. 2) Tonight I will have clean clothes.

A brief note about the tea... it was triumph turned tragedy, then remedied by selfless kindness. Once a day, most but not all days, we get to have tea at breakfast. Simple black tea, yet hot, soothing, and caffeinated... I like to hold my cup for a few minutes before drinking, enjoying the anticipation and contemplating what the fist sip will be like. WELL, this particular morning, a mosquito landed on my hand during my revelry. Always contemplating if 'this' mosquito is the one that will give me malaria, I got flustered and in a flurry of motion to get the miniature beast off of my hand, I dropped my sacred cup of tea. It was like watching the ice-cream fall off its cone before the first lick. Before I even had time to react, one of my teammates gave me their cup of tea reasoning that they would have the 'chai' later which they know I don't like. This was the nicest thing anyone could have done for me at this moment. It seems so dumb- a cup of tea, and yet when it is one of the only luxuries, this particular kindness was unparalleled. I think the greatest gifts do not depend on how big or how costly, but on the simply gesture behind them. I like this because it doesn't ration the potential for kindness on any level.

In respect to clean clothes, I have been wearing pretty much the same skirt since I've been here and rotating between 3 shirts. 3 AMAZING shirts that keep you cool all day. Anyway, there is a bucket in our room that we have tried to wash with, but due to the humidity, things do not dry and then they smell. 2 days ago, we heard rumors of a washing machine. This morning, we FOUND IT! It is armed by a very little woman who has insisted on washing our clothes for us (we will pay her). She speaks no English, but is very sweet. I couldn't even hold it against her when while organizing our things for washing, she held up my underwear for all to see...:)

Promise to write more soon. Please keep emailing, it's really nice.

I am in Orissa, and finding myself challenged. I will provide more details at a later time, but feel it is best not to focus too much on them right now. Suffice it to say that I am well, and noone has gotten sick yet. I am thankful to be with good people, and for the mosquito nets that were just put up.

Both internet and power is sketchy, so updates will be infrequent. Please feel free to email.

Humility

I don't even know where to start. I am on sensory overload. Delhi is a city of contrasts. It is ugly and beautiful at the same time, though often the beauty is less defined. On one hand, it is big and dirty- poverty is everywhere. On the other, people are kind, hardworking, and a vivid portrayal of what it means to be alive.
In some ways, it feels like I've jumped back in time. Everything is about 3 decades behind what is familiar in the US. While there are some very nice roads, they an anomaly. People seem to be building things everywhere, surrounded by the remnants of whatever it was they tore down. While the men all wear western clothing, it is very rare to see women in anything other than a sari. They are very elegant, even as they sit sideways behind their husbands on the ubiquitous motorcycles dominating the streets. I have not seen a single woman wearing a helmet, though they seem to be popular with the men.
If people aren't on motorcycles (sometimes entire families of 4 on ONE CYCLE), they are in very small cars, or in motorized rickshaws they call 'tuk-tuts.' It's hard to walk more than 5 feet without and equal number of 'tuk-tut' drivers asking if you want a ride. They look like 3 wheeled motorized bikes- a little scary considering they share the road with such crazy drivers, and don't have horns like everyone else (who use them not to tell people not to hit them, but to announce that THEY will hit you if you don't get out of the way.) Stoplights are the worst. It is when the street children are most evident. Yesterday, 2 little boys approached- one playing a drum, and another who had a painted mustache and bow-tie on his face, danced and did cartwheels. After their performance, they draped themselves on the windows of our car. It is so hard not to question why them and not me. Why were they born in this very poor country where there opportunity is limited from the day they were born? It is an entirely humbling thought. Later in the afternoon, we were approached again by another little girl. As soon as the car stopped, she was at our window. Tiny and dirty. I was sitting in the middle, so saw her first on Hallie's side of the car. She must have seen that the other window was open because we blinked and she was gone...only to hear Kim yelp seconds later as she was met with little arms reaching for her. She seemed to be looking at my large half-full water bottle, so I lifted it up and gave it to her. As we drove off, I watched her carry her carry it way like it was a treasure, just a little water.
We have only one meeting today, so we plan to visit some temples. We went to a Hindu one on Wednesday, which was really interesting. We had to leave our shoes at the door, and I was informed that since my shirt did not have long enough sleeves, I would need to borrow a scarf to cover my shoulders. It was a beautiful orange scarf that I enjoyed wearing, careful not to imagine all the indecent shoulders it had covered before my own. The temple itself was magnificent; huge, ornate, and clean. I know very little about the Hindu faith, though I really believe that God speaks many languages, and was clearly speaking very loudly to the people who built and maintained this temple. Another very humbling experience. We plan to visit both another Hindu temple, as well as a Buddhist one today.
I could go on and on, but will save it for later. It's almost 8 am, and its time for a shower.

Alright. It's currently 10:30 in the morning here. Im wearing what I had on yesterday, though I got to shower so Im pretending I changed into clean clothes. I'm feeling really grateful that I made last minute decision not to wear jeans (thanks Mom:) ). While there is no gurantee when/ if my bag will ever turn up, I get to spend up to 100 euros that the airline will reimburse... if I do that today, and my bag comes tonight, then I consider it my victory. I brought everything I couldn't live without in my carry-on, so really all it is is frustrating. As I watched all the other hundreds of bags rolling along the carousel I kept telling myself that 'someone's bag always had to be last...' Well that's true- it just didnt happen to be mine.
Anyway, when I finally got out of the airport, Kim, Maulin, and 'our driver' were waiting for me. After a wild ride (shut your eyes and go), we arrived at 'Hotel Clark.' It is really nice... clean, air-conditioned, soft sheets, and a wonderful shower!!! The electricity seems to randomly go on and off, but it never stays off for more than a few seconds. We had a free continental breakfast this morning, which was very nice. It felt like the fresh mango was calling my name, BUT I said, 'no fresh mango...even though you look delicious, I WILL not eat you.'
We are off now to do some exploring before meeting with a 'water specialist' at the World Bank. It's about 110 degrees outside, so first stop is water. My Dad told me that the heat would feel like a wall upon getting off plane. He's right. It feels heavy and strange. More to come!

I am here. My bag is not.

Lots of Airport

I'm working on my 5th hour in the airport, and I haven't even technically left yet. Plane number one left Minneapolis at 6:25 this morning (on time!!), and arrived in New Jersey at 9:45. I collected my bag, switched terminals, and re-checked in for my actual flight...which leaves at 4:20 (only 2 more hours:) ). I'm a very lucky girl, as I got a day pass for the World Perks room, alas, I have as much soda, pretzels, and tomatoe juice (weird?), as my heart desires. This is wonderful, particularly because this particular terminal is 'under construction,' leaving alternative snack options as old smelling pizza, and possibly okay soft-serve ice-cream. Notably absent is any form of coffee joint. This is incredibly disappointing. Fortunately, anticipating such a travesty, I had more than my fair share of Caribou yesterday, and again early this morning before leaving MN.

A few pre-departure notes: 1) It appears I packed nearly twice as much to go to the cabin for 4
days than I did to go to India for 1 month. I wonder what this means...
2) My face soap has already exploded all over its (own) bag. I'm not
going to fix it.
3) There are 4 men sitting near me that are talking about the FBI.
I'm listening.
4) I will make a note to make sure I eat before taking malaria
medicine in the future.
5) I'm halfway through the book that is supposed to last until Delhi.
6) Today marks day one of a nail-biting free life (or at least a
month).
7) I feel very humbled, loved, and thankful for all of the people in
my life who have helped me prepare and wished me well on this
adventure. I will be thinking of and finding strength in you each day.
8) Time to buy jelly beans. I'm off...next update from Delhi!!!

I am currently visiting St. Louis. It is Saturday morning, and I have been here for 2.5 days. I wish I had better words to describe the flurry of emotions I have felt since being here. It is humbling to realize that while I have felt St. Louis as a great absence in my life, St. Louis itself has marched on with time. The places and things that were 'mine' are still here, but they belong to others now. In some sense, this is beautiful, and very reassuring. It maintains an access point to the part of my mind which holds the memories of when I was here. I wouldn't feel such a contrast if coming back here didn't really feel like traveling back in time. My life now is so incredibly different than it was here. At some point during the summer of 2006, I morphed into survival mode in which I became 'Miss Butler,' developing a toughness which allowed me to tolerate being called dirty names, walking mouthy students home to discuss their behavior with their grandmother, and diverting attention from the window when the high school gangs showed up with baseball bats. This toughness is not something that goes away, but I haven't had to access it for some time. Returning here forces me to remember who I was, how it affected me, and how much I truly valued the experience in light of where I am now.

I visited my old school yesterday....performed my old Friday morning routine (run with Jessica, pick up treats at store for students, stop at Starbucks.) My favorite baristas were working at Starbucks, and they remembered not only me, but my drink (no small feat) as well! After an entire year we were able to catch up on the remembered details of each others lives and pretend that no time had passed. At school, I was bombarded with memories, starting with the smell as I opened the door. It was the same smell I encountered every other day- no easy name for it so I will call it the 'oh my gosh- another day, what was I thinking- I love my job- I am crazy- I'm happy to be here- I can't wait until 4:30' smell. Yes, that is pretty accurate. Anyway, yesterday happened to be the day of 'Spring Musical.' It was a great way to see everyone in one place and sneak up on unsuspecting students. One of my favorite students who came here from Albania last February speaking not a word of English (and whom I secretly referred to as my henchman and employed as line-monitor due to his ability to single out talking students and organize people 'just so' so that the line was straight, silent, and seemed to march where I led them...;), now has a full vocabulary, is an excellent reader, and no longer gets to monitor lines because of his tendency to exercise his new use of words at all times. I bestowed candy upon my former classes, asked and answered, questions, and felt immense pleasure of being able to be the superhero who delivers treats and then flees (as opposed to performing damage control whence the sugar high hits.)

I have to run, but there is one more story worth sharing before I go. I feel it is a tribute to both the creativity, and mischievousness of a young mind, and the frustration and horror experienced by those trying to deal with it. Alright: Armondo. Armondo is a very precocious 4th grader whose father was a famous singer in Bosnia, but now devotes his time to cultivating Armondo as a junior rebel and ladies' man. There are many Armondo tales, but the most recent (2 days ago), and my personal favorite is this one. After being disciplined in his classroom, Armondo had decided he'd had enough. He got up, left his classroom, and proceeded to the teacher's lounge where he removed honey and syrup from the refrigerator. He then proceeded outside to the playground where he 'honey and syrup-ed' the sliding poles and monkey bars. I will leave the images of what happened to your imagination, but let it be said that the pre-school teacher did NOT have a good time prying here little people off of the equipment and spending the morning 'de-sticky-fying' their clothes. (Prologue- At some point Armondo was witnessed lurking and giggling, and turned over to 'Ms. King, the custodian,' who armed him with a pail and rag, made him clean up his mess, and then turned him over to the principal who sent him home.)

Summer 2009. I finally received word yesterday as to where my summer fate lies. Option 1: Orissa, India. 2) Dhaka, Bangladesh, and 3) Nicaragua. My top choice is India, as I feel most strongly connected with its mission. It is run by an organization called 'Gram Vikas,' which literally means 'Village Development.' Their goal is to promote processes which are sustainable, socially inclusive, and gender equitable. The project I would be working on would include interviewing villagers on both the perceived and actual impact of access to clean water. We would assess whether access has changed hygiene behavior, incidences of water borne diseases, and the extent to which women have benefited. On India in general, Orissa is tauted as one of the most spiritual places in India. I would love to visit the ancient temples and soak up some of the peace. The only caveat is that there has recently been some religious squabble.

As for Bangladesh, the project is run by World Bank, and has to do with bottom-up institution building. The project involves looking at successful village mobilization, identifying the key ingredients to its success, and developing a system by which their success may be replicated. It could be interesting- ties in a lot with some of the courses I took this year.

I'm not even going to bother with Nicaragua. It is my third choice and highly unlikely I will get it due to my inability to speak Spanish. I have very little connection with the project goals as well, so yes- hopefully this is the end we'll hear of Nicaragua.

I submit a personal ranking on Thursday, and find out officially where I'll be going on May 19. At that point, travel arrangements will be made. I feel so funny right now. For the longest time, this was 'this summer...' and now it's here. I've lost the luxury of distance, and it suddenly feels very real. I am so excited- really, really excited....but I'm a little scared too. It seems that often turning points occur in our lives, AND THEN we realize what caused them. With this, though, I am fully aware that it is happening. I know I will see a very different world, that I will be bothered by things I can not change, that I will feel the weight of privilege I in no way earned, and that I will wonder, 'Why you and not me?' It is impossible to return the same person I leave as. I hope I will come back a better person; a more thankful, more aware, more convicted person to pursue what change I CAN affect. And yet....all of this scares me. It is knowing, and not knowing all at the same time.

On a lighter topic, I have been reading some amazing books. I recommend 'Little Bee,' by Chris Cleave as a number one pick. A close second is 'The Cellist of Sarajevo,' (a little contrived, but captures the spirit of what happened), and third, 'Unaccustomed Earth' by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have packed all of these books up and sent them home so they will be available. I'm currently just about to finish another book right now, though it will remain nameless until I can gauge whether or not I think reading it may cause unnecessary worry by those tempted to see what its about. (...thanks for the masks and hand-sanitizer, mom;)... ) I will limit my description to saying that it is about a girl I think would make a great friend and who appears to have a spirit similar to my own.

It is currently 12:09. My last final is in 20 minutes. I'm going to leave now so that I can see the little man who lives in the park and that has made it his personal responsibility to ensure that NYU students make it to class on time, give his 10 minute warning call.

I am convinced that every person lives a secret life. It is not intentional, but consists of the inner thoughts and details that we confront when we are alone and that simply don’t seem relevant to share at a later time. I really think it’s these experience that have the greatest effect on who we are. When we look back at the most significant experiences in our life, it is unlikely that we will recall the random encounter with the sad looking lady walking alone on the street, the brief conversation with the man at the deli, or what we thought as a fire engine sped by, but at the same time, I really believe these are the experiences that affect how we interpret the ‘big things’ we’re more likely to report. Sometimes I feel like these small events are each a part of the puzzle to each one of us is. Those that we are closest to are those who care about making themselves familiar with the most intimate, ugly pieces that seem absolutely out of place, and yet equally contribute the completion of the puzzle. Those that love us the most are they who embrace those pieces and find beauty in them for their sake in the whole as opposed to focusing on their isolated ugliness. In this way, we are best able to love ourselves by allowing others to love us.

I really do plan on making a habit of writing more often. My excuse this time is that it is the end of the semester, and life just kind of picked up and got away from me. It’s funny because I often write in my head what I plan to write on paper, but many times recently it just hasn’t seemed to make it that far. In any case, here I am.

I am smugly writing on my recently fixed computer. It decided to die about 2 weeks ago. Somehow it sensed that I had a term paper due the following week. After taking it to Best But, it was diagnosed with ‘failed Windows Vista.’ I almost paid the $1300- debit card out and everything- to have them fix the problem, but was informed that before it could be addressed, I would have to contact my computer’s manufacturer to get the necessary disc to fix. WELL, I found this mildly irritating and decided that if I had to order the disc, I might as well install it myself. (How hard could it be….right???) 5 days later, my disc arrived. It all boiled down to a great lesson in patience and overcoming self-doubt. The long and short of it is, is that it’s not hard to install as long as you don’t touch anything while it’s installing and you diligently follow its commands…for 6 HOURS!!! This may sound easy, but there is disclaimer anywhere about how long the whole process is supposed to take. I got frantic after just 1 hour the first time, 4 the next…and finally (deep breath) decided that I should try one more time. After 25 years of learning the tricks to outsmart myself, I started the process at night- so that I would be sleeping for most of the ‘waiting’ part. I woke up at 6:30 to start the next process, and by 10:30 I was sitting more than a little please with a ‘just like new, but loved SO much more’ computer. (Within this hiatus of lack of computer…I finished my term paper through the use of various library computers…one in the Veteran’s Hospital where I selected my dress based on what I thought looked most ‘dentist-y’ (the VA is the home of NYU’s Dental Library), and another in good old Bobst Library in Washington Square…known not only for ‘suicide atrium’ in its lobby, but also for incredibly long lines at the computers…. All of this being said, I haven’t worked so hard on a paper in a long time- unfortunately with more effort being focused towards dress and computer procurement than the paper itself;) )

I’m now going to skip wildly ahead and describe today. This is not merely because it is so fresh in my mind, but because…though they felt perfectly natural at the time…holds several more unique experiences I’ve thus far encountered.

I had no intention whatsoever of today being any other than ordinary. In fact, having decided to dedicate the whole thing to studying Financial Management, it was supposed to be even more ordinary than usual. Fortunately for me, and the sake of this blog, I really like Financial Management because it often feels like fitting pieces into a puzzle so is more like a game than a chore…anyway, after playing the ‘game’ for a couple hours, it became clear that there was no way on earth I could subject my mind to playing all day long (I ran out of practice tests….), deciding instead to take myself for a stroll.

Waiiiiiiit!!! I almost forgot a most delicious tale I cannot leave out of the telling of today! Yes. I’m glad I caught that- as its peculiarity helps to set the tone for the rest. I may be exaggerating in my description of it as ‘delicious’ but it did occur at Starbucks, so I really couldn’t help myself. So, there I was…peacefully minding my own business (as usual), working on my financial management puzzles when a character with an unsavory smell (booze? Smoke?) approached. He appeared to be early 20’s, garbed in classic ‘cool gear’ ---hat, zip-up sweatshirt with dice on it; typical ‘corner wear’ as I like to call it. Anyway, he wanted to know how I’d gotten on the internet. I explained how you could get on for free if you had a gift card, etc, and then said, ‘good luck!’ He left, and then returned---it wasn’t working. I told him I really didn’t know what else to do, then smiled and put my headphones back on. He appeared to settle himself quietly about 3 chairs away…for at least 2 minutes. He then engaged a poor unsuspecting girl sitting next to him in some sort of dialogue which became remarkable only after 20 minutes when she had explained that she was studying for a PHD exam and really needed to study. This continued for at least 10 more minutes before she reiterated that she couldn’t talk, and another 5 before her tone changed and he appeared to get the message. That’s when he came back to me. This time he asked if I would come over and get his computer set up for him. I suggested that he ask someone at the counter, as I really didn’t know and they would have more information than I would. Apparently not finding this a good suggestion, he went back to the other girl and began explaining to her how ‘I was just too busy to help him. I apparently had too much to do. I just didn’t care…’ (each comment somewhat louder than the previous one, as to ensure that I knew what he was saying and who he was talking about…) Having put my headphones back on after the last encounter, I was able to play dumb well enough, but silently wondered if I should get a pencil ready to poke him with if he came back for more. (How this would have worked, I’m not sure, but somehow the idea of a sharp pencil made me feel better….) Annnnnyway, he eventually left at which point the other girl he’d honed in on (and a third who we all agreed would have been his next target if ‘nice girl’ wouldn’t have told him to try borders for internet…) had a nice chat.

Now back to the stroll… after about 30 minutes, I found myself walking up 5th avenue. I hadn’t planned on it, but St. Patrick’s Cathedral looked really inviting as a nice place to find some calm amidst the flurry of chaos everywhere else. Further, I am need of a new ‘Mary’ for a necklace which I refuse to buy at just ‘any’ location, (Mary jumped ship /necklace just after finals last semester…I think she needed a break...) and I thought I may find one there. After entering, I soon found a reasonable secluded seat that proved to be just the facilitator of peace I was hoping for. Of course there were many people traveling to and fro around me, but no major distractions….until the wedding started. WHAT ! A WEDDING! Yes. I wish I could say that right then and there I up and left, leaving the wedding proceedings to itself, but …I did not. All around me, tourists of every nationality were suddenly participating in these strangers’ wedding! So of course I stood when the wedding party began parading down the aisle, and participated in the opening prayer. (I did NOT take out my camera to capture the event as several around me…though I did contemplate exactly how those pictures would be explained back wherever home was… ‘and look here--- this is a picture of a bride and groom I’ve never met, but really wanted to capture the moment…’ ;) ) Anyway, then I thought I may as well stay for the readings, as I really like knowing what people choose to have read, and then well, I didn’t want to miss the homily….so I stayed. At several moments I felt underdressed, but then, I really didn’t’ have much advance notice that I’d be attending a wedding that day….. So yes. I did FINALLY depart. Leaving, I noticed another wedding party getting ready to take over as soon as the first one finished. Curious as to whether the priest would say the exact same thing at the second wedding, I was tempted… but finally said, ‘Molly, NO! One strangers’ wedding is enough for one day.’

I headed off to FAO Schwartz . I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while, but was thwarted by the BLOCK long lines around the holidays, and never had a really good reason to brave the crowds. Today at last I had my excuse. In pursuit of presents for two 5th grade girls, I had just the reason Id been looking for. After lingering abnormally long for anyone but me in the animal section, I took a place in line at a bracelet making station. These watch-like bracelets boasted diamondy jewels spelling out words of your choice---the PERFECT accent for any 11 year old. Me and the bus-load of Italian women who arrived just before me shared this perception. Sadly, the Italians did not speak English, and the ‘bracelet makers’ didn’t speak Italian, resulting in a very amusing interaction. Both parties seemed to believe that if they spoke LOUDER, their words would make more sense. They didn’t, and then they got mad. Knowing some Italian, I helped in ways that I could- translating to the bracelet maker what they wanted…leaving out the parts about their personal opinion of the bracelet maker…. Anyway, eventually everything worked out. The Italians left happy, I left happy, and the bracelet maker switched to the Harry Potter section of the store.

I have returned at last. I have been waiting and waiting for some news about a job, and for whatever reason, it seemed to make sense to me that by 'not blogging' it wouldn't seem like I had as long to wait...as if I could change the increments of time by ignoring 'day to day...' choosing 'lump sums' of time instead. Hmm, well to be very honest- it hasn't worked that well:) I am stilllll waiting, but in the mood to write, and since I SHOULD find out on Monday, my irrational self has deemed that its within the timeframe of returning 'day to day.'

It is pouring rain outside, as I gaze through the window from Starbucks. I'm thankful for several things: 1) that I'm not outside 2) that I found an open chair and 3) that I had some good outside time before the rain.

My current lifestyle does not require me to arise from slumber until well into the morning. Today, however, was a rarity. A friend of mine recently got into Wagner, and is visiting for Admitted Students Day (more on this to come). Having taken the Red-Eye from Phoenix last night, he was due to arrive at 6am this morning. (Note to all travelers- he flew Jet Blue, and not only had his OWN tv, an 'overnight pack,' and my personal favorite...air-conditioning!!! ---I recently took a very HOT flight on US Airway.) Anyway, his plane was late, creating the perfect opportunity for a pre-rain run. I LOVE New York in the morning (maybe because its a treat since I tend to sleep in....). I took myself to my favorite place in the city this morning- midway through the run, after a long straight path, you make a slight turn to the right and POOF!!! the Statue of Liberty is smiling back at you. I never get tired of it. Anyway, I made it back home after a brief run in with an angry woman and an angrier dog just in time for Andrew to call. Long story short, I prolonged my fun just a little so that I could go fetch him;) To his credit, he did an AMAZING job maneuvering the subway from the airport on a day when New Yorkers were prepared for rain...

Alas, after quickly (and I mean record time) cleaning up, we boarded the shuttle and headed to 'admit day.' We were very blessed to make the shuttle, though I should have known it would be running late. Whenever it rains, or even LOOKS like it might rain, the city gets terribly anxious and things slow down. I swear that people have their umbrellas up well before the first drops fall---just in case! Don't even get me started about snow... Anyway, the shuttle was late, which allowed us to catch it. I am currently serving as a 'Student Ambassador,' in which I serve as guru- for all things Wagner to 13 newly admitted students. This is slightly amusing to me becuase I don't entirely identify with all that it espouses. (I dont always recycle, I beleive in Jesus, and I can't speak from experience when it comes to the 'tag-lines' on their t-shirts.) Anyway, I DO like advising, and Im happy to share my personal experiences. I have made Wagner fit me without sacrificing who I am. I tried to explain this to a sweet girl from a little Catholic school (student body size 2000) in rural Texas, choosing between here and Boston College, but I didn't want to make her cry so I stopped and re-affirmed her that 'yes, you will be completely prepared having known someone who went to NYU several years ago...' I beleive challenge is a great way to affirm what you think you know. I hope she does too.

That was a long detour as means of saying that I am really happy today is Admitted Students Day, and that I am a part of it because it promises to be a day of above average free snacks and wine. Im especially excited for the 'reception' tonight at 5:30.

The question then becomes, "If you are at Admitted Students Day, how on earth are you crafting this story at the SAME TIME!??" and the answer is that... I have hired a personal assistant to dictate my thoughts. That's not true- actually I don't even know if I'd like if it WERE true. This being said, I did my initial 'meet and greet' and that's all that is required until the reception this eve. This has allowed me to enjoy a WONDERFUL time at Starbucks, and battle a particularly tricky homework assignment. I found myself in a terrible mood yesterday, as it was the first time I hadn't been able to finish my work during class. This meant I'd actually have to take it home and do it! (Financial Management...) It's not due until next Thursday, I found it radically perturbing that it would require more attention than its allotted 3 hours. In any case, it's done now and I feel GREAT:) In retrospect, it was nice to be frustrated for the sake of the immense satisfaction I feel having figured it out.

That brings me to right now....I must depart for it is time to babysit. Have a wonderful day!

I am home at last after a long and frustrating day. I should have known to be on alert when it took me 20 minutes to get out of bed, finally emerging outside just in time to see my bus fly by.

After a visit to the gym, I headed 'downtown' to conduct an interview with a human resources person for the 'New York City Economic Development Corporation.' Never having visited this establishment, I successfully boarded the '6' train downtown and waited for my stop (one I was assured would emerge by one of my classmates, also conducting the interview). Said stop did not emerge. Nothing CLOSE to said stop emerged. I decided to cut my losses and de-board the train in an area which would allow me to choose 'right or left' and walk in chosen direction. Well, happily I chose correctly and subsequently embarked upon a lovely tour through a part of the city I had not ventured before (Wallstreet....yes, I sense of past doom was felt....).

After a very interesting interview, a I boarded the (correct) train, though unfortunately in the wrong direction. Alas, I went to Brooklyn instead ob back to school. At the conclusion of this detour, I treated myself to Starbucks and am convinced that it was one of the best peppermint lattes I have ever had.

Next, while en route to class, I tripped and fell (for the first time.) After an uneventful class about the effects of technology (or lack there of) of farmers in developing countries, and about the evils of Walmart in Nicaragua, I exited the classroom building and much to my dismay, tripped AGAIN on uneven sidewalk!

I then proceeded to a cafe to do my homework and talk to my dad. If there is one thing about this city, it is that 'your' space, is 'everyone's space.' This being said, as I was only one person at at table, I was not entirely shocked when a character of questionnable nature occupied one of the vacant chairs. I soon took my leave.

The day concluded with my attendance at a 'micro-finance' talk in whcih various micro-finance experts talked about their work in the United States. This was really interesting, and the snacks provided were of A+ quality:)

I am now home and in pursuit of finishing a book I had intended to finish days ago. Tonight is the night!