Hey Africa. . .

So, I sent in my application today to do Study Abroad in Kenya this December. Random, I know. I saw a flyer for it today, and since it fills a few requirements for graduation, I figured I would at least apply. The two teachers I asked to do recommendations said they would. Well, one said they would. Another said it would be easier to do once he grades my midterm, but I have faith that Mezey will help me out. It's hard cause I don't really know my professors very well, this being my first quarter back and all.

But yeah, I'd be gone for the month of December, in Kenya working with the "Green Belt Movement." The focus is on food, agriculture, the environment, and the effects these have on Kenya. Stuff like that. And it's a great chance for me to go to Africa and see how these people live, which I think is really important for someone going into Foreign Policy. It doesn't matter how many books you've read about a place, until you've been there, you don't understand.

So, hopefully I get approved and they let me in. It's such a great opportunity. I'm nervous, though, that they won't let me into the program. Not sure why they wouldn't, but I always get nervous with stuff like this. I've been lucky so far -- keep your fingers crossed for me!

Good Thing My Balance is Solid

It was such a beautiful day today. My first and only class of the day was held outside in the Quad, and only lasted half an hour. I spent the morning walking around Lincoln Park, running a few errands. But the time I got back to the apartment, I was so tired I could have taken a nap, but decided not to. After hanging out and cooling off for a while, I walked around the corner and got some frozen yogurt. Strawberries and dark chocolate -- oh, it was so good. Then, I kicked it with Snicket for a while, talked to my mom. After dinner, I decided to go for one last walk before it got dark.

There were couples everywhere. Going for walks, heading out for a Friday night in the city, walking the dog. And ya know, I think it's sometimes harder to be in a long distance relationship than it is to be single. When you are single, everyday is the day you might meet someone, and tomorrow you could be that couple walking around as the sun goes down. When you have someone, and they just happen to be many miles away from you, you know tomorrow isn't going to be the day you have someone to walk around the block with on a clear night.

It's hard sometimes, the duality of a long distance relationship. While yes, you are active parts of each others' lives, it's not in the same sense a couple who live close or with each other. You have your own routine, your own way of doing things, that isn't interrupted save those few times when you do see each other. And even then, you know that come Monday, things will go back to normal. In a sense, even though you aren't "alone," you are alone. You're a single functioning being, totally independent in many ways. And it's just an odd tightrope to walk.

It's Been On My Mind

Well, I bucked up today and went downtown to get my phone fixed. It was nice out, and since it's supposed to be really nice this weekend, I figured this way, I can stay in Lincoln Park and enjoy the warmth rather than get on the EL and head downtown. Thought I was getting lost in the Loop trying to find ATT, but I stumbled upon it! Oh yeah. Go me.

The past few days I've had that weird kinda, little kid feeling. Ya know when you're a kid and you act like an adult? Do the things you think an adult should do? Yeah, I've been feeling like that. I mean, this past weekend, at Andy and Katie's wedding, I had a rush of it. They have a few years on me, but only like 2 or 3. I kept thinking, "How are we old enough for this?" When did that happen? When was the line drawn in the sand between being way too young and just old enough?

How can I have my own apartment? How can I be graduating college next year? How can this be my life? I mean, I'm Bee. At four years old, I told people Darkwing Duck was my boyfriend. When I was six and went into school late, I didn't know what cutting in line was. It feels like when you're sixteen, and all the sudden you can drive and you feel really grown up, but just because you have that piece of plastic doesn't mean you're any older. You're still in high school, still a Junior, still a kid. And I still feel like a kid! I think I'll always think of myself as the same awkward 16 year old who got made fun of for reading the Communist Manifesto.

It all feels almost fake. Like, someone is going to realize one day that I'm clearly too young to be where I am.

Typical Wednesday

My whole apartment smells like mothballs. One way or another, pantry moths have invaded and I am waging full out war on the little fuckers. And since my apartment is itty bitty, having mothballs in any part of the area results in my whole apartment smelling like my grandparent's house. Awesome.

And, my cell phone has decided to reject my SIM card. So, no phone. Similarly, awesome. Granted, I don't really like having a cell phone, but not having any kind of telephone is a pain. The nearest ATT store is downtown, so it'll be the weekend before I get down there. Yeah, I'm lazy. Whatever.

I'm gonna watch Real Housewives. . .

Europe? Maybe? Please?

I'm trying to do that thing where you kinda start mapping out your life. Like, thinking about where you could feasibly end up and what path you could rationally take. Keeping in mind my end goal (Middle Eastern Foreign Policy if you are just tuning in) I've kinda started looking at jobs I could handle doing. First target: the UN. I'm a diplomacy nut, so it makes sense. But, it also turns out that jobs at the UN require a Masters degree or equivalent work experience. Even the internships are for graduate students. So, that means I either have to wait a few years in a different job, or go after that Masters. Or maybe both. Who knows? Another option is the State Department, through which I could get a job at an embassy or an outpost which would be pretty awesome. I'm still kicking around that idea of the internship for next year, but I need to keep working on my precious GPA before I'd feel comfortable applying for something like that.

On the grad school front, my dad is talking about going to London for some meetings in the next few months. Assuming I don't have class and he actually goes, he said I could come along. He wants to bring my brother and doesn't want Michael to have free run of London (or any major city for that matter) so having me go with made a lot of sense. Depending on how long we'd be there, I'm thinking about just heading over to Paris for the duration of the trip. A few days over there would be nice, and would allow me to meet with someone about their graduate program if I'm still thinking about doing that. Plus, I'd be more comfortable wheeling around Paris with Michael than London, particularly because Michael has a pretty intense sense of adventure. Knowing the layout would make it a lot easier. I need to figure out when my summer classes start and end, and then push Dad to actually go through with the plan and not back out or just let it fall by the wayside. Cause I could definitely go for some Paris time between quarters.

So, I went home this past weekend. I'm not planning on doing so again for a while, since this whole going, going, going constantly thing kinda sucks. I've really enjoyed going home and seeing everybody, but I'm really looking forward to a weekend of doing nothing. It's gonna be sweet.

This weekend was fun. I went home for Andy and Katie's wedding, which was really great. The reception was fun, even though I maybe drank a lot and accidentally punched two people in the face at the same time while dancing. Yeah. Sorry about that, guys. There was, of course, some stress involved in this weekend. How could there not be? Things aren't helped by the fact that both of us are pretty over-tired and over-stressed, but still. I ended up going home after the reception and going to bed, after venting to my dad and brother for a while. I'm glad I did. I had enough to drink and just needed to lay the hell down.

This week is gonna be pretty chilled out. I don't have a whole lot going on, besides going to see a speaker on campus talk about torture and terrorism. It should be neat -- he recently went to Iran with a council calling for reconciliation. If there is one thing I love, it's people who tell me what I already agree with, and if there is one thing I agree with, it's reconciling with Iran.

Which reminds me: Look, people. Obama isn't a fucking Socialist and he isn't a fucking Fascist. If he was a Socialist, just FYI, I wouldn't have to sell my first born child to pay for college and I'd be able to go to the doctor when I'm sick. And if he was a Fascist, he would have dissolved Congress already or at least killed Rush Limbaugh. And another FYI, stop trying to pull this, "Oh, I'll treat your president with the same respect you treated mine." He was actually elected. Bush wasn't. He isn't a war criminal. Bush is. Get over it. Just because he uses big words that you don't understand doesn't mean you can hate him.

Let The World Change You and You Can Change the World

I have never really been the kind of person who looks up to people. As a kid, I never really had a hero. I admired some people -- family, celebrities -- but there was no one I could honestly say I wanted to emulate. Someone who inspired me. Over the years, though, I've found a few people I can look up to. People I can and hope to base my future aspirations on. Once I figured out that I suddenly had a handful of people to look up to, I started wondering what it was that I admired in those people. They are pretty different: FDR, Jack and Bobby Kennedy, and Che Guevara are the four that come to mind immediately. Sure, they are all political figures, but one wouldn't put Che and FDR in the same boat, I'd imagine.

So, I thought. And then it dawned on me. They were all revolutionary spirits. FDR and the Kennedys' turned their back on their own class to fight for real issues. Bobby Kennedy, in his run for president, could have easily run on his name alone. But, instead of ensuring votes by promising big business and the wealthy upper class (from which he came) they would be "taken care of," he chose to run on an unpopular platform, advocating major social issues that, in many cases, still haven't been resolved. Che Guevara fought oppression in Latin America, and used his skills as a doctor to help those he met along the way. All of them let the times they were in and the experiences they had shape how they saw the world. By allowing themselves to be plied by the ebb and flow, they were able to address real problems and make real change. And that is what I admire.

Che once said, "A true revolutionary is guided by great feelings of love." I believe in that one hundred percent. True revolutionaries take themselves out of the equation and see the greater good, and strive for that no matter what. Che himself died fighting for the cause (and in case you don't know, when I saw "the cause" I mean the spread of Marxism.) The Kennedy brothers went into Washington naive to the nation's poverty and turmoil, but by the time Bobby was assassinated, they had left behind a strong legacy of standing up to the imposed order and fighting for those who needed it most. FDR, after being stricken with polio, saw in others the suffering they endured and used his position of power to work for them, and forever changed the government-citizen relationship in the US. To be a true revolutionary, you have to love people. You have to love them enough to take chances and make hard decisions. As cliche as it is, the old adage is true -- if you won't do it, who will? Who is going to fight for what's right? Even if change won't come in your own lifetime, anything to further the cause -- or any cause -- is all important to the eventual realization of the end goal.

Ya Really Wanna Start Throwing Out Nazi References, Right Wing?

So, I'm pretty mad just now. As you might know, new memos were released with yet another wave of information on in regards to the Bush administration's torture policy. How many more of these things do we need before the American people care? How many more innocent Iraqi and Afghan citizens need to be reported as homicide before someone gets mad about this? It's not unpatriotic to call out soldiers who do these things! Guess what -- if you're there to spread freedom and you end up beating an Iraqi to death, you aren't doing your job! You deserve to be sent to jail, just like the soldier who was just sentenced to death for murdering four Iraqis. Just like those Blackwater soldiers who, for how many fucking years, went completely unchecked, and were able to kill and rape civilians whenever with zero repercussions, should be.

"Oh, but Bridey, they were terrorists!" No. They weren't. They were suspected terrorists. Suspected combatants. Many of them were "non-enemy combatants," or, as the defense department changed it to, "no longer enemy combatants." Yeah, good one. That really makes it all better, you guys. Ya know, no one had to charge these people with anything. Many of them weren't. So who knows what they did, if anything? Oh, and those claims it "wasn't torture?" What about those cases when it lead to death? You know, the beatings that cause blood clots? Stuff like that? Or does death not count as torture?

I have a full blog on torture at musingsfromtheouterfringe.blogspot.com, including a story about one particular detainee who was killed at Bagram Prison. Tell me what you think. What does the United States owe the rest of the world, as well as those people killed, if anything? And what constitutes torture?

Stop Giving Tea Bags A Bad Name. . .

Just when I thought the world couldn't get any more crazy. . . Not only did I go temporarily insane due to a $5 sale and invest in a corset (what?) and now I'm seeing signs at these "Tea Bag" protests with awesome sayings like "Americans are the Jews for Obama's ovens." The horribly vulgar part of me thinks that's kinda funny. . . okay, if Kim or I had come up with it, I'd be laughing. Sadly, the people making these comparisons are, of course, the gun hording crazy Republicans -- not the normal, functioning human being Republicans, the kind of Republicans who think Obama is Hitler. And what the fuck, Right Wing? You couldn't come up with something better than "Tea Bagging?" You know you are setting Fox News up to be the butt of a lot of jokes, right? Oh wait. I forgot. You can't expect much more from the people calling openly for revolution to "take back this country." Yeah, cause Obama totally fucking led his Junta of Kenyan youths and took the White House by force, not a legal election or anything like that.

Kyle Is My Hero

Oh yes. My day has started off wonderfully! Kyle, who for all intents and purposes is my brother, found the version of Mrs. Robinson that has eluded me for so long! Ya know, in the movie The Graduate, when Ben is racing to get Elaine, and the version of Mrs. Robinson plays, "Stand up tall, Mrs. Robinson. God in Heaven smiles on those who pray." I have looked for it for YEARS and could never find it. Leave it to Kyle to find it within hours of me posting a video of it on facebook. The song itself is only 1:15 long, but I've listened to it a few times now and it's so good. I love The Graduate. And I love Simon and Garfunkel. And I love Kyle.

I'll Put Some Whiskey in my Whiskey

Ya know that saying about how people don't really change? I'm starting to wonder if that's true. I am not a suspicious person, but I could become one pretty damn quick. I'm also not a fool, and I don't intend on becoming one of those. But I'm not going to overreact until I have all the facts -- I'm also not prone to doing that. Which, by the way, isn't easy when you feel like someone with a speckled past is hiding something from you.

Getting drunk right now sounds good, but also really, really bad. I should probably not be listening to bluegrass right now, seeing as how every other song is about drinking heavily.

I Have Made A Big Decision

Basically, when all is said and done, I plan on performing my career in a way that, once I've become famous, the Beyonce song "Diva" is used in my biopic. Oh yes, I will work hard to bring a hella bunch of soul to Foreign Policy on behalf of the American people. And I will . . . oh, believe me when I say I will . . . be the female version of a hustla.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ifr4fRjAz8

Another nightly convo down with no mention of Foreign Policy. Not sure if this is a victory or not . . .

However, I am adding a minor (probably International Politics) assuming it doesn't add any more time on to getting my degree. I don't want to take 6 classes a quarter; 5 is hard enough so far. And I'm looking into maybe trying for a "Stay-In-School" internship with the State Department for next year.

I'm not waiting around for the okay. This is what I want to do, and I need to get the ball rolling so I have a solid plan in place before next Spring. Which reminds me, I need to look at grad schools other than AUP. Even though, if it is an option, that program would be the best choice. The French have a long history with the Arab world, and having a degree valid both here and in the EU would be an awesome foot in the door in a lot of different countries.

The fact that I wake up every morning wishing I was in Paris is just an added bonus. . .

About Damn Time

So, I finally got my internet hooked up last night. It only took, like, two weeks to get everything delivered and in place. Yeah, little to say, I'm very pleased that I can now lurk the hell out of facebook in the comfort of my own home. However, the presence of the internet means it took me 3 hours to clean my one room apartment, because I kept taking "breaks" to refresh the page. Yeah, that might become a problem. But for the time being, cut me some slack.

Yes, I did clean my apartment today. I hadn't for the past few days, and things were getting cluttered. That's the one problem with living in a studio apartment -- if you leave things laying around, it gets very small very quickly. My apartment isn't too small, for a studio. For what I pay in this neighborhood (Lincoln Park) I can't complain at all. Things aren't that crowded, and I don't feel totally claustrophobic. I set my shelves up in the middle of the room to give me some sort of separation between living area and sleeping area. I have a pretty big walk in closet -- big enough to hide away things I don't really have a place for. And my kitchen is walk in, too, so it's not one of those "tucked into the opposite wall" kinda fake kitchens. Maybe I'll put pictures up at some point in time. I just have to take good ones.

I like living alone most of the time. Yeah, it sucks leaving school and knowing that everything I left in the morning is there to do, and there is no one else I can ask to help me out, but that doesn't get to me that much. I like having the freedom to do what I want when I want, and that the apartment is my space. It's pretty nice. I mean, Snicket is here, but she doesn't have any decoration preferences as long as I let her sleep on top of my cabinets.

Plan for tonight is, well, more interneting. 7:00 is my Keith Olbermann, who I missed last night due to setting up internet. Hopefully I'll be awake enough to watch Milk (trailer at right.) I got it over the weekend, and have yet to see it. I'm pretty good at judging movies based on the trailer (haven't been wrong yet) and I can already tell you this movie is great. I have to do some homework at some point, but I'm in no hurry. This afternoon away from it has been really, really nice. Maybe I'll just spend the next few hours dancing around my apartment some more (I never said I was cool.)

And Now Begins the Stewing. . .

Well, yesterday I talked to Ben. Not, of course, about the whole Foreign Policy issue except for very briefly. He apparently thought I was mad when I texted him, and even though I keep telling him I wasn't (and really, I wasn't) I get that wonderful, "Yes, dear," response that drives me crazy. What's the point in getting mad about it? I mean, it's not like he's going to change my mind on the matter, so why blow my top over it? Kind of like when we went to sign my lease, and he didn't want me to sign in until he saw the apartment. He got mad when I wouldn't relent, but I knew that I was signing the damn thing no matter what he said.

I guess the more time I spend thinking about the whole thing, the more his need to be in charge (is that the right wording?) is bugging me. I mean, I'm down with compromising. I agreed not to get my lip pierced when he asked me not to, I agreed to hold off on new tattoos for a while, I even went ice fishing for a week even though I was moving the day after we got back. But I also hate feeling pressured when it comes to making decisions. I'm in charge of me and my space; you can have yours, I don't really care, but as far as me and my corner of the universe, don't fuck with it. It probably doesn't help that we've both been busy this past week and pretty over tired when we talk, leading to more hostility than usual (including one run in that could have turned violent if I didn't let a few random comments directed at Poli Sci/politics go.)

But, I guess at some point we will have to talk about the whole thing. Not today, probably not tomorrow. Until then, I'm just keeping it all in the back of my mind. Not worth getting into an argument about until it's totally necessary, if it's necessary at all.

Urgh. I should just aspire to be that creepy old lady who lives alone on the edge of town. God knows it'd be a lot easier.

Never Ask the Cat for Relationship Advice

So, last night, by going out with a friend to have a few drinks at his pal's place, I managed to muster the liquid courage to finally tell Ben I don't want to teach. I don't want to work in education, I want to work in Foreign Policy -- I only came up with the whole teaching idea because I could get a job wherever he ended up. But, in doing so, I managed to overlook the fact that Foreign Policy is what I've wanted to do for a long time; it's my passion, and has been for years. I compared me going into education to him going into business; I'm not majoring in Political Science for no reason. And especially now that I'm back at DePaul, working hard and paying a small fortune for this damn degree, I want to get everything I can from it.

Then, after texting him, I fell asleep. This morning I had a few texts and a missed call from him. Basically he said he has a lot going on this weekend, and he can talk it all over later. I texted him back this morning that it isn't important, so don't worry about it. I hadn't intended on talking to him about this for a while, just because I don't graduate for another year and so it won't be an immediate issue. The fact that I know I won't hear what I want to (that we can work something out, so don't worry about it) doesn't exactly make me want to bring it up until it's really necessary.

I guess what it comes down to, and I know it might sound little kiddish, but he majored in engineering because it's what he wants to do. He has all this freedom to find the job he wants in the field he wants. And yet, even though when I graduate we will have the same level of education, I feel obligated to build my life around his if I want to this whole thing to work. It's not like he expressily has said I have to do that, but I definitely feel some pressure. I feel like, when all is said and done, if I'm not careful, I'll be the one giving up on all the things I want to do in life. And I don't want to end up looking back and resenting what I did with my life.

I know politics, I know foreign affairs, I know how to see the "big picture." I feel like I have good instincts for Foreign Policy, and an understanding of how US policy has shaped parts of the world, particularly the Middle East. That's what I want to work in -- Middle Eastern Foreign Policy. I feel like I could do really, really great things if I get into the right position. And I don't want to rob myself of that chance.