Bring Your A Game (better is one day in your courts)

Better is one day in your courts, better is one day in your house, than a thousand elsewhere.

As good as life is for us down here on earth, time in the presence of God is promised to be thousands of times better. Literally, thousands. Something I can’t even grasp and something we’re not designed to understand. If we understood God’s plan, God’s will, God’s thoughts, then faith would not be something difficult. We wouldn’t grow, we wouldn’t learn things about God. He wouldn’t be a wonderful mystery and we wouldn’t be drawn to get to know him. Just as the couple who learns something new about each other after years of marriage, our relationship with God is designed to be ever-evolving, and if we knew everything up front about how life worked than we wouldn’t have to -or get the chance - to live life.

Our friend Jay Chenoweth is in Heaven. It’s so hard to sum up Jay in a sentence, but for those of you who don’t know him, he and my dad grew up together, my mom met him and his wife more than 25 years ago, and we’ve gone on numerous ski trips and new years eve trips during the past decade. If I could hand-pick my in-laws, it would be mary and jay for sure. (cathy & jim have always been off the table because they don’t have sons.) 8 years ago, jay and I started calling each other homie. (it has to do with jay watching mtv. Story for another day.)

For some reason, God decided that it was time for Jay to leave our world. Jay had been fighting cancer for a while now, bravely, courageously. So weird to type that he’s gone. I can’t dwell on it or I’ll just throw this computer right out the freaking window. I know homie is dancing in heaven, praising god and playing golf with the disciples and doing whatever we all do when we arrive at the thrown of the King. I know that God completely planned this, and that good will come out of everything God does. But I’m still hurt, confused, and stunned. More so for others than for me. Homie has a younger brother and older brother, wonderful friends, his rockstar wife Mary, and two fun sons John and William who I really consider brothers, or at the very least cousins. He was only 45? Why die now?

Homie was so fun. He skied like a mad man. He was HILARIOUS. I told my dad – I never would have told homie this to his face, it would have gone to his head too much – but I could make a list of all his qualities and if I found them in a guy, I’d marry him right there on the spot. He was faithful but not in your face about it, he was hilarious (did I mention that), he was loving and kind and gentle and so patient. Then when he lost his temper, he was, again, hilarious. He was full of adventure and life, planning a trip for our two families in RVs to Colorado. He was hardworking, generous, and so dedicated to his boys. His family was his life.

The quality I was inspired by most was homie’s devotion to mary. He was completely in love with her – if she was in sweats or a cocktail dress, if she was happy or grumpy, he loved her with his whole heart and was not afraid to show it in front of anyone.

Jay lived life to the fullest. Over a thousand people came to his memorial service, clearly showing how much he touched others lives, and how blessed he was during his 45 years on earth. I will be forever thankful for knowing Jay and getting the chance to be around him. I know I will hang out with john and William and mary for years and years to come, they can’t avoid the Robinson family. My plan from here on out is for all of us to pick up slack that homie has left us while he flew up to heaven: to live life on the edge, full of humor, love, and adventure – just as he did.

Homie always had one liners and sayings ready to fly out of his mouth. He always had hip music on his ipod, cooler than me for sure. Always knew at least a few of the latest rap songs. On several occasions I tried not to literally wet my pants during his antics with Mary, my dad, or anyone. One of my favorite memories is just me and him on the ski slopes in steamboat, I don’t know how we ended up just us the two on the lift, but the ski lift operator called him my dad. I quickly corrected them - “he is NOT my dad” and after that he would tell strangers he was my dad and be as awkward as possible – such as blowing his nose really loudly on the ski lift with strangers.

We’re all trying not to be sad around my house. Homie would want us to keep on living, honor his memory. It’s sometimes so surreal to me. Is he really gone? This is so weird. But I know something: what an inspiration that our lives are soooo short. I have new motto now that my homie’s gone up to the room that Jesus told us he was preparing for us: Bring your A game!

Ski fast, live life, love with abandon, give it your all. Jay gave his family his all, was hilarious with friends, I’m starting to repeat myself. I could go on forever.

I wish we’d had longer with him. I wish that more for Mary and the boys and his brothers and my dad and his countless other friends than I do for myself. I’ve certainly realized - this is one life. That’s all we get. It could end tomorrow. Seriously.

Better bring your A game.

Rock Me Mama Like a Wagon Wheel

Charles Dickens is famous for saying, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. That's pretty much the story of my life right now.

This week started off with a state arrival at the White House and me stalking the POTUS as you see in this picture. It ended with a day of kayaking with the best roommate in the whole world, the very best turkey sandwich i've ever eaten, and a live rockin' concert with three of the coolest people in this district.

In the middle were a lot of tears. We'll start with the bad news first. Tuesday night I was supposed to have a tutoring orientation for this program for kids living below the poverty line and struggling in school, but I had the nights mixed up and it was actually Wednesday. So, I grabbed a bite on Capitol Hill, did some reading, and made my way to the steps of the Capitol facing the Washington Monument and the sun setting behind it. It was glorious, the sky skattered with pink streaks and a blazing orangefireball sinking below the horizon. It was a breezy cool night, one of those that is just so physically obvious that there is a God and he is very real. Sitting outside enjoying great weather, whether at camp in the hill country, on the ski slopes of Colorado, or here in the capitol, i am hit with the reality that God is so around us all the time, and I am just too busy or naive or unwilling to see Him.

I prayed to God that night from the steps of the Hill, thinking how blessed I am to have so much going right for me in life: health, job, friends, happiness, connection to Him - and that he is so in charge. But I also felt very alone, very much that it is me and God and that's all we've got in this world. Which in a way for everyone, even married people or people that have huge families, etc. But the aloneness didn't last long and it was a very enjoyable Tuesday, watching the sunset in a place I never imagined I would live for at least a full year.

Then Wednesday came. Long conversations on the phone, loud bursts of crying, moments of anger and confusion and sadness. My Homie, Jay Chen, is really struggling in his fight with that disease called cancer. Its trying its best to take over his body. And I know that God has his hand on Homie and is very much aware of his hurt, but it doesn't make it any easier. Of all the books I've read, college education I've recieved, you would think that I could use an extensive vocabulary to describe how my dad, Jay's brothers, wife, sons, my mom, all those who adore him as much as I do, feel. But I can only say that this completely and totally SUUUUUUCKS!

ugh. gross freaking cancer.

So that covers the worst of times part. I thought I'd rather start with the negative and end with the positive, but I don't feel much like talking about the positive right now.

I will tell you that my roommate, Dr. Kathy, and I went kayaking today - about 2 miles from our house is this place called Fletcher's Cove, and you can rent double kayaks for $15 an hour, so we did, and its so close to the city yet you can't see any of it. just massive amounts of trees and green and beauty. it was wonderful. then we went home, i rode my bike to a renowned sandwich place around here that i had never tried. i took my book and ate outside - it was so great. my sandwich was delish - wheat bread with carved turkey (think thanksgiving) - stuffing, cranberry sauce, with a little herb seasoning. seriously, it was like one of the sandwiches on friends that joey would risk his life for. the bread gets soggy with all the wonderful ingredients as you near the end, cranberry sauce is falling out everywhere, hmm. i talked to my grandmummy, honey, and she's going to start making them. we'll call them the georgetowner.

then tonight caitlin & patrick connor -aggie figi doing teach for america in DC- & katherine and i went to see old crow medicine show live. great place, not too huge, lots of people watching and singing at the tops of our lungs. they're old school tennessee/alabama style, they play banjos and obos and fiddles and violins and sing about drinkin and women and the union. most famous/fave song is "rock me mama like a wagon wheel."

they sang one of their new songs about no do overs. the lyrics brought big tears to my eyes - they were talking about the line between fear and faith, life in this world don't last forever, we aren't going to get any do-overs, you can't do better in the next go 'round.

so here's to making the most of each day.

We Will Never Forget (Or Conspire)

Living in DC makes September 11 a little more realistic to me. What a terrible day. I know God works for good through all things, but this one was hard. I can remember going with my mom to the prayer room at Chapelwood Church the night, or maybe it was the night after, September 11. I remember the fear and sorrow I felt for those people. I can remember the President’s address to the nation the Sunday after Sept 11, and that churches and synangogues were packed to the point of overflow with people searching for comfort, peace, refuge.

It’s easy to forget it happened. Easy to forget those that died, the children and families and jobs and hopes and dreams they left behind. Easy to pretend no Islamic extremist spent years training – on our soil – to fly planes into our building and kill innocents because they hate the freedom and prosperity those buildings stood for.

Then I go through an airport, where I pay an extra security fee, and take off my shoes because of those crazies. I want to call them harsh words, refer to them as bastards, cuss and curse them, when I think of the lives they attempted to ruin.

Yet almost worse than them are the cynics living here in America. These people in Washington, Texas, California, anywhere, that walk around with misguided thoughts about America. Read “Three cups of tea” and get back to me on the fact that we don’t need to be spreading democracy.

Also get back to me on this: Joe Biden was quoted in 2005 as saying, “Americans need to know we are sending these troops over there to stay in Iraq for ten years, maybe more. They are needed there.” Now that’s not word for word but when I find the link I’ll get back to you.

The people who I want to kick in the shins the most are these people wearing t-shirts and bumper stickers about how September 11 was an inside job. I don’t care if you think the President is a red-neck who is a terrible speaker that trashed our economy or if you think “No Child Left Behind” is a terrible policy or if you think he attacked Iraq because he wanted to finish the job his father set out to do. Fine, whatever, all of these points are at least debatable. However, if you think or say or imagine that the President planned, premeditated, dreamt up this horrendous attack on our nation, you could not be more wrong or more deserving of a kick in the shins. Listen to the President for one second talk about his faith in God or humanity or in America. Listen to him as he talks about AIDS killing Africans and look at the number of lives he has saved through pledged US dollars and simple things such as mosquito nets. (It’s a record for a US president.)

President George W. Bush did not set up those attacks. He hated that they happened, hates the terrorists responsible for them, hates any country’s government that was not going to hand over those terrorists, that was going to let them find a safe hiding place within their borders.

I’m not saying this war is great, the lives we’ve lost are meaningless, etc. My point is that the President of this country would not let an attack our country happen that hurt lives, economies, our way of life, our security. They would do anything in their power to prevent attack, let alone plan it. I don’t think that President Clinton would plan September 11 and I disagree with most of his policies and all of his morals. So why can’t people just shut the hell up about September 11th being an inside job? I am INFURIATED every time I see those protestors or hear people discuss it. The people that should be most offended are the people who lost a loved one in those attacks: these speculators, conspiracy theorists, are belittling the murder of their friend, spouse, parent, relative, neighbor, colleague.

Enough of my rambling. Tomorrow they’re dedicating the Pentagon memorial in Virginia. The President will stand at the very spot that an airplane, hijacked by Islamic jihadists, loaded with American citizens, crashed into the nation’s defense headquarters. I’ve been to the very wing in the Pentagon that the plane crashed into. I’ve stood there and seen pictures of the two grandparents that were on their way to see family in Florida when their lives abruptly ended, and for what? As part of the President’s grand plan? No. As part of an attack on our freedom, of religion, thought, expression. I’ve heard the story of the family of four that was on their way to Disneyworld for vacation and then burned to death in that plane crash. Their lives are OVER because of the terrorists wanting to kill us because American is our nationality.

Writing about this helps prevent me from lashing out on a conspiracy theorist on the metro or on the street, from grabbing their shoulders with my hands and shaking them until I can get some sense in them.

All of this to say, tomorrow I will remember. Remember what class I was in when we heard of the attacks. (American History, Coach Kemble.) Remember my mom coming up to lunch at the high school and being fully relieved to see her. Remember not fully grasping that this was NO accident while watching the news that night with my dad, so thankful that he hadn’t died, thankful that he wasn’t in an airport waiting to get home to Houston, like some of my classmates’ Dads. Remember feeling compassion for all of these New Yorkers and others who lost loved ones. Remember falling in love with Rudy Guiliani and the President as they handled the crisis with bravery and sincerity and compassion.

Most of all, tomorrow I will remember that we have beaten the terrorists. I may take off my shoes at the airport, I may think twice while riding the metro from time to time, I may get nervous at packed football stadiums that could easily be targeted with a bomb or air attack. But they have not been able to strike again.

We still stand for freedom over here. I may hate putting up with them, but the cynics can complain all they want, they still have the freedom and the right to voice their opinion. They can shout from the rooftops about the President’s inside job attack on the World Trade Center. And they can thank their lucky stars they still have the right to shout. We will know what they are shouting is wrong. I know they are wrong because if the President had the will and the power and the cruelty in him to plan an attack on our soil, he would also have the will and power and cruelty to make this into a Putin-style democracy, where he could stay in power as long as he choose. Or he could run us over like North Korea runs over their citizens. Or he could turn us into communists like the Chinese.

The President used to have an 80% approval rating after he attacked in the Middle East. We needed him to feel safe; we clung to the security he provided. We’re comfortable again, and we’ve turned our back on him.

Newsflash: September 11 was not that long ago. For most of us, though, we didn’t lose a loved one in the attacks. We weren’t gasping for oxygen as we ran down those stairs praying to make it out alive and wondering what had just happened. We aren’t haunted daily by the reality that was September 11.

I know that God works for good through all things, Romans 8:28, but I sure hope he doesn’t have another 9/11 in those plans. Tomorrow, I won’t kick anyone I see protesting or arguing about 9/11 in the shins. I will wear my red, white, and blue with pride and say a prayer for all the victim’s families. And I will say a prayer for the conspiracy theorists: that their hearts are softened, their minds enlightened, and their lives protected if another attack should come.

we need you, johnny mac

watching the obamas/bidens leave the stage, i can't help but wonder:

aren't they wealthy? arent they attractive? arent they well to do? they may have come from nothing, but. pretty much the same story as the mccains/most republicans out there. for every kennedy and bush there is a selfmade politician too.

the difference between the michelles and the cindys, the baracks and the johnny macs is that one supports strong, heavy handed government with "benefits" for all. the other supports strong, hard working people with benefits for those willing to earn them.

change change change. i know hes sincere about chanting it, but how can really bring it about? he can't. because hes just like the rest of em.

i'll tell you who i love. jill biden. shes gorgeous, seems down to earth. sincere. cries real tears. loves her husband for who he is, not for where he can take her.

i can tell you i will cry real tears if b.o. is elected. because i will pay more taxes, american borders will be insecure, and russia will possibly nuke our asses. because gays will be married in all states that ratify such ammendments, abortion will be legal, and our supreme court bench will be filled with people who are crazy. not to mention that health care will become even more frustrating, with situations like canada where you drive yourself to the next big city if your city's hospitals are full. because lobbyists will rule dc, schools will be even more focused on "teaching to the test," and we'll fill afghanistan with troops currently stationed in iraq and call it a draw-down. because a god-fearing, america loving, eager to serve man like george w. bush will be bashed and trashed for the next four years.

we need you john mccain. step. it. up.

Tour de Mount Vernon

Me: "If I called my mom right now, I would say, hey mem, its me. I'm with Caitlin. Well I guess that goes without saying."

Caitlin: "Yeah, that's like saying, "I live in DC."

Well, we had another adventure again this weekend. Full of lots of pain in our muscles, silliness coming out of our mouths, and a little bit of George and Martha Washington.

I've been planning in my head of biking to Mount Vernon since last January - just waiting for a warm weather and good company. Found. So, Caitlin and I met at the Memorial Bridge that links Arlington Cemetery and the Lincoln Memorial. According to guide books, the Mount Vernon trail is a wide, smoothly paved, flat 18-mile stretch that takes riders from Georgetown through Alexandria, Virginia out to the gates of Mount Vernon. We rode 17 miles together outbound to the mansion, and if we had been filmed, it surely would be the next great reality show.

We stopped after the first 45 minutes or so, making it roughly 12:45. We had already passed Reagan National Airport and were near a marina with sailboats, where we watched a solo sailor trying to right his sunfish boat after it had capsized. (it took several attempts, which was perfect entertainment while we ate crackers, guzzled water, and talked about how we were going to be sore when we got to our destination.

Little did we know. The next 12 miles or so were full of me laughing alot about how difficult it was for me to make it up a hill, which didn't help because then i would be more out of breath from the laughing. My dad left me a voicemail after hearing of our endeavor saying "well, i'm sure y'all had fun but your bike...it's just not meant for riding more than a few miles in a neighborhood. Not that i don't like your bike, i know it was a great find, but the way the handle bars and seat and peddles are aligned, i don't know how you would ride up a slight incline for a litte ways, let alone miles..."

In short, it was hilarious. We passed some pretty houses and a marsh and LOTS of interesting characters out on the packed trail. I had my handy bell that reads "I heart my mom!" on the top to warn anyone that we were coming. Once, I fell behind due to a traffic jam on a bridge near the airport, and a biker passed Caitlin ringing his bell. She thought it was me, and so she turned and said "ding ding!" he looked at her like she was crazy and said "ding ding" right back.

We made, it finally, to Mount Vernon. Soaked in sweat and starving. But it was great to see the mansion that our first president had built. He was definitely a more noble man than me, (partly because I'm not a man) - in the museum it talks about how he was offered the position of King on multiple occasions, but he always declined. He clearly loved Martha immensely, and they talked of how no one was allowed in his library without specific permission - except for Martha, who could go in whenever she wanted. We saw the last set of teeth that he used, and the very bed where he died.

Oh, I'm leaving out a few things. On our way out there, I was behind hodge podge and thought my chain had come off. So I stopped, looked at it, then sloooowly was trying to catch up. I shouted "Hodge PODGE!" so she would know where I was, and this racer dude passing me just heard me yelling but didn't know I was talking to anyone so he was like "c'mon, you can DO IT!!" i wanted to punch him. And, Caitlin told me several stories of bike crashes she's been in during our third mile or so. Like, when she rode into a ditch off a bridge. And how she still has a scar from one time she flipped over the handle bars. And then five minutes later she almost crashed into a bridge...

My chain came over at approximately mile 36. But, he-women that we are, we got it on in no time. Greasy blackened hands to prove it, too. When we got to mount vernon, prior to food and fro-yo and water and caffinated beverages, we were contemplating how to get back to this district - ferry? hitchhike? metro in the last 10 or so miles? pay some kids to ride in for us and we'll ride in the car with their parents? but WE MADE IT all FORTY miles door to door. and today i'm not quite as exhausted as i thought. but, in the guidebook, we're going to put "prepare to have a sore hiney and some curse words along the way to the symbol of American freedom and prosperity that is Mount Vernon."

To sum up, I'll leave with two final short stories. One - as we sat on the back porch of the mansion overlooking the Potomac thinking of colonial days, a six or seven year old boy asked his dad, "Daddy, were the dinosaurs around when this house was being built?" Yep, you betcha. So were those cows in that field over there, said Caitlin.

And today, leaving church in Chinatown, my wonderful roommate Katherine said to me:

"Who has been kicking Caitlin in the calves?"

"What?" I said, as I looked over at Caitlin crossing to the opposite street with our friend Joe.

"Those bruises! Who's been kicking Caitlin in the back of the legs?"

"Oh," I said. "No one. Those are from her bike pedals smacking her whenever we get off our bikes and walk."

gig em & god bless ya!

Things I Learned from the Commonwealth of Virginia

Last Thursday I came home from work, grabbed my bags, climbed onto my scooter, (which i have named Merriweather Lewis, because he was awesome for a number of reasons. He was the personal secretary of Thomas Jefferson, he got to live in the East Room of the White House for a few months with his laundry spread everywhere, and he explored the American Frontier with his buddy Clark.) Anyways, Merriweather and I rode across the Key Bridge -at sunset, it was beatiful, into Virginia.

When you ride the metro in VA, the driver always says, "next stop ___ blah blah, final stop in the commonwealth of virginia" or "next stop, "pentagon station, first stop in the commonwealth of virginia." i don't know why its not a state, probably because of thomas jefferson's handiwork, but anyways, i was dog/house sitting for a lady from our office who was going to texas. I kept her two fun, big dogs from Thursday through Tuesday morning. Five days. Long time. She lives in a cute townhousey neighborhood out in Virginia. It takes 10 minutes to get there in no traffic from the USDA/downtown DC, but not on Merriweather. So it was annoying being that far out there but all the money I made is going straight to the Europa Fund, which erases the annoying part. Plus, as i told the infamous caitlin hodges, its adventures like this that give me more material for my book. (hitting newstands, TBD)

Anyways, I won't bore you with alot of the details. But I'd like to share some of the wisdom I acquired while out in the green suburbaness that is Alexandria/Arlington, Virginia.

a) i learned that homesickness is right at the edge of life in dc, waiting to suck me in.

Scootering out to my weekend home, it was great to see all the cute houses with their steps up to the door, and the fun-colored front doors and shutters, and all the trees and yards bigger than a sandbox, but. I was hit with the feeling (along with a few bugs in my teeth) that living in a real city would be hard. DC is so unique, and my purpose is so clear. Its the capitol, I'm here because what I'm doing can't happen in any other city and because I'm learning and experiencing things vastly different from Houston/home. I think that if I lived in a house with a regular sized room and a queen bed, in a city with no metro transportation, with no smithsonians and weird things to do on every corner, i'd be sad and wonder WHY AM I HERE when i could be in houston/not thousands of miles from most of my friends and family. (don't worry though, i'm back in the district and all is well.)

b) that houston isn't the only large city with mexico built right in.

so i took a wrong turn on my scooter on saturday, while i was making my way into the city to watch the olympics with dear friend/roomie katherine & holly. and all of a sudden, two blocks off the route i had google-mapped, i am in mexico. seriously. people speaking spanish on every corner, soccer being played in parking lots, mexican import food market, guys whistling at any blonde they see, regardless of if she's actually attractive. it was like i was driving down longpoint in the 77057. i'm not trying to judge or be degrading, i'm just saying - apparently immigrants make it further than houston and create their own version of home right here, not 10 miles from el capital.

c) that my moped is probably the best tangible thing my parents have ever given me, and if i die on it it will so be worth it.

I LOVE MY MOPED. it is ssssoooo fun. (in case you don't know the details of merriweather, he is a ghetto version of a moped. as in, the rearview mirrors don't work because they aren't located in a position that a person taller than 3 feet 5 inches can see out of. except for the left one, but the bolt is loose so it spins forward when you hit a bump. so people from the front of merriweather can see their reflection, great. he also is currently getting 85 miles per gallon. i'm totally getting one in the next city i live. i'm not very gracious at accepting gifts nor do i like to spend money when unnecessary, and this was not necessary, but it is so convenient and fun. and i promise i'm safe, because the last thing my dad said to me about merriweather was "if you die on that thing, that i suggested we get and that i paid for, i will never forgive myself." thanks for the uplifting message dad. now i never veer through traffic or speed through the tunnel on K street. okay, only rarely. but seriously, thanks mom & dad!!

d) i wish there was a soundtrack to my life. (good morning, baltimore!!)

friday morning i made the bus from the virginia house right on time - literally walked up the hill and there was the bus, pulling up for me to jump on. it dropped me off at the pentagon - yes, the one in the movies. i've been there! i told myself - and i metroed over the potomac river. then, i came up out of the escalator on the national mall with blue skies overhead, a light breeze, marine one flying straight over my head over to the white house to pick up the POTUS. perfect timing or what?

e) dogs are a lot of work. especially dogs that shed.

whew, the dog hair. i sure miss pookies/sam and if i could have him back for just one day i would NOT complain about his dog hair or fish breath, but. these dogs aren't pookies. and they had a lot of hair. just like babysitting is good birth control, dog sitting is good don't-run-down-to-the-humane-society-just-to-rack-up-a-five-hundred-dollar-vet-bill-unless-you're-really-really-serious-about-getting-a-dog control.

f) i like trees and art museums and living in the capitol.

the trees in virginia and the winding long streets with cute houses were AWESOME. i miss fresh air and no crowded streets with alleys hiding trash cans. but being in the national gallery of art museum with hodge podge was awesomer. capitol, you win for now.

g) people in the commonwealth like to GET IT ON.

seriously, i went running three days in a row out there, and on sunday night i probably saw five VERY pregnant women out walking with their hubbies. or couples with two kids in a stroller and another two or three on bikes with training wheels. (not a lot of cars on these streets.)

cute, but seriously. babies don't grow on trees. these people are busy.

h) dc, if i hadn't officially told you already, i've fallen for you. good thing we have least 5 months left to continue our relationship.

dear readers, if you've made it this far - sorry this post has turned into a novel. i can't believe its the end of August already!! i say that at the end of every month, i know it's annoying. well, life is great up here. if i keep coming back to texas i may just stay here for a little while longer. (shh, don't tell caitlin. or my mom. i don't want to get either of their hopes up. plus, they'll both be fine without me, they just talk a big game to make me feel loved.

I'm Leavin'...On a Jet Plane! (but i know when i'll be back again)

texas, our texas, all hail the mighty state!

well, in less than 24 hours i will have touched down in the great city of HOUSTON! little known fact : 88% city of Houstonians recently surveyed would list their city as the best city to live in in the nation.
if i were the POTUS, or a cabinet secretary, on my schedule next to arrival in Houston it would say RON. (not a code name for my attractive boyfriend. nor is it my code name for my security agents. it stands for Remaining OverNight) REMAINING OVER NIGHT IN TEXAS!!

on sunday i realized it was actually this week that i was leaving for tejas - and i thought, it's about time. but then i realized i'd been in town at the end of june, so its only been 6 weeks. seems like forever though.

anyways, understatement that i'm excited to be going, excited to see the fam, and pretty pumped to walk across the stage at TEXAS A&M UNIVERSITY. it really really doesn't feel like its over. i still feel like i'm on an internship and someday soon i'll be back to sleeping in late, staying up til 2 or 3, and the number 1 thing on my to-do list for the weekend is a football game. i only spent 4 semesters in college station: because i had a year and a half in fort worth, a half year interning at the white house. somedays i feel like my days at aggieland sprinted by, other days i forgot that i was even a transfer.

all i know is if you would have told me 5 years ago i'd be graduating from texas A&M i'd have laughed in your FACE. yet i can't imagine it any other way. its what my mom and i like to call "a god thing." totally planned by God. Maybe i'm another way to point to the existence of God - "well, see, God has to be real. there is no other power that could have moved c.robinson from a burnt-orange bleeding, longhorn t-shirt wearing, major applewhite lovin high school student to a member of the twelfth man fightin texas aggie!!!

i learned its not always just about the school though in terms of faculty or curriculum - or the colors, ew maroon? really? - its about the people. i won't ramble on forever, but the people at texas A&M are why i loved it - the feeling of standing in the football stands, with people who really care about who you are, who care about what's happenin on the field, people that stand for loyalty and hard work and are genuine and laid back. sure, some of them are rude. some of them have one life goal: get drunk, and look ridiculous doing it. some of them cheat on tests. but in general, the 40,000 strong that make up texas A&M today are fun, down-to-earth, salt of the earth people.

i'm still happy with life in DC. more than happy. laid by the pool this weekend (the public pool in georgetown. sign said, and i cannot make this up: "all rashes must be inspected by physician before entering water." it was GREAT to go swimming!! i also cooked veggies from the USDA farmers market. shopped. did a bible study with caitlin. hiked in the woods. rode my bicycle to teddy roosevelt island. (we have woods here!) slept.

oh! and last night was screen on the green. nothing like shirley maclain and jack lemmon projected on a giant screen with the capitol glowing in the background. only in this city!

this has been a rambling of thoughts. i'll report back after family time, graduation, a fun wedding, and LOTS more family time on the lake. i'm sure i'll cry to board the plane in houston and jump for joy when i land in the district. its only a year and i'm going to make the most of it. this week, i won't quote billy knox. i'll quote davy crockett:

"You may all go to hell, and i will go to TEXAS!"