For however long this lasts.

Whether it's for the next 1461 days or 2922 (God forbid), as long as Trump is in the White House, this right here is my life mantra.

I won't stop, because this man is now in the Oval Office and we're all in danger. I don't care who is in his Cabinet or in Congress, I will fight for justice and equality for ALL. There are more of us than there are of them, and it's more important now that we protect each other than it's been in a long time. We need each other. The only thing that will overpower the hate the Trump administration represents is loving people. Love people harder and stronger and louder than they hate, and we'll win. Let's get to work.

No, I'm not watching the Inauguration tomorrow.

Anybody who knows me knows that I am an extremely passionate person, especially when it comes to politics. I have very strong opinions, and I will discuss and debate anything with anyone, no matter how much or how little we agree on. I've followed American national politics, and particularly presidential elections, since I was 8 years old and George W. Bush was elected; once I watched that election night, I never stopped. And I don't regret it for a second. I love this country, I love politics, and I love what I do. (If I didn't, I wouldn't have racked up so many student loans to get my Master's!)

But no. I'm not watching the Inauguration tomorrow, and I don't really care if you agree with that choice or not. I've long accepted the fact that in less than 19 hours, Trump will be our president, but after everything that has happened in the past year and a half, even more so in the two months since the election, I can't sit back and celebrate giving the nation's highest office to a man who has shown so little regard not just for so many different groups of American citizens, but for US democracy and government as a whole.

I can't honor a man who has shown greater respect for Russia's dictator than for the CIA.

I can't esteem a man who accused a Congressman known for being a civil rights activist who got his skull fractured by police in Selma of being "all talk and no action."

I can't rejoice over the new presidency of a man who has hidden so much from the people he is meant to serve.

I can't be excited about the start of the term of a man who lies even when proof is on tape and then lies about having lied, about everything from small, personal things to huge, nation-changing problems.

Some may say that we should give the new president the benefit of the doubt, that we should give him a chance, but Trump hasn't earned that. Trump blew his opportunity for a second chance from me when he sided with and praised Putin over the US, and then compared the CIA to Nazi Germany.

When his supporters immediately started harassing and assaulting people and vandalizing property after the election because he had glorified racism, hatred, and violence.

When he insisted he never mocked a disabled reporter even though every news outlet in existence his video proof.

When he picked a guy deemed by the Senate too racist to be a judge as Attorney General, the President of Goldman Sachs - a company he criticized for hurting the working class - to run the White House National Economic Council, a guy against raising the minimum wage to a livable standard to run the Department of Labor, and the CEO of ExxonMobil with a $500 billion deal in Russia to be Secretary of State.

He, along with the help of his chief sycophants, Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell, are creating a plan to systematically dismantle the protections Obama's administration created for me and people that I love. I will lose my health insurance if the ACA repeal is immediate, which could actually kill me. Holly will lose her access to care when they attack Planned Parenthood. My LGBT+ friends are on the verge of being reduced to second-class citizens again. My friends who are teachers are risking having their whole lives upended because Trump's Education Secretary doesn't support public education.

This isn't about my party losing. This isn't me being a "snowflake" (as one obnoxious, racist commentator likes to say). This is real life that people who support and voted for Trump don't seem to get, that Trump and the GOP don't seem to care about, and the fact is that I'm not going to sit and waste my time watching as the country celebrates a man who proved long before his Inauguration that his loyalty does not lie with this country. It lies with himself.

My love for this country has nothing to do with the person in the Oval Office, anyway. Actually, it might even be stronger now that Obama is leaving and we are being faced with a man who gladly terrifies so many people. My love for this country is rooted in the people I know. In their lives, their stories, their families. In the goodness I've seen from strangers in the midst of danger or intense evil. In the glimmers of hope we can see when this country actually unites after a tragedy. It stands in the hope that though this feels like a setback, that after Trump is out of the White House, this country will be able to put itself back on a moral path that I can't possibly expect to see with Trump. My love for this country is what has kept me from giving up since November 8th, and it's what will keep me fighting for love and justice for all for however many years we have to deal with Trump as president.

Do I love my country? You bet I do.

Am I going to keep praying for my leaders? Now more than ever.

Am I going to celebrate and watch as an unqualified, vindictive, terrifyingly hateful man who has lied his way to the top of the government takes over? Not a chance.

God Bless America

Two weeks gone.

At first, I had nothing to say.

Then, the election happened, and I had so much to say I didn't quite know how to process it.

I had so many people telling me how I should be reacting in the aftermath of the election being called for Trump...Here was my response on Facebook.

Don't tell me to be okay right now, when I and people I desperately love have so much at risk.
Don't tell me not to be scared right now, when I have more than enough to be rightfully afraid of.
Don't tell me not to be angry right now, when I feel as though the God I love and the Gospel I treasure have been twisted and abused.
Don't tell me to be hopeful right now, when our next president did nothing to inspire hope for the entirety of his campaign.
Don't tell me to be polite and respectful right now, when a lack of politeness and respect is what got us here.
Don't tell me not to be sad right now, when the country claiming to be the greatest on earth has proven it is still controlled by hatred and fear.
Don't tell me to be accepting of this right now, when this is not what I believe in and pains me to my core.
Don't you dare tell me, or anyone upset today, what to feel. Let us grieve. Then, we will fight.

Lecrae said something that really resonated with me: "I know that God is in control. But so did Jesus when he wept after the death of Lazarus." Jesus knew he was going to bring Lazarus back to life, and he still cried. I know God is still the same, but I'm still scared and upset.

As a political science nerd, I'm really frustrated with the Electoral College, to be honest. We're living 2000 again, except way worse. The Electoral College is something the founding fathers put in place literally because they did not want the entire "average" populace to be able to elect the president and fall prey to a demagogue like Trump (hey, Alexander Hamilton!). So even though 570,000+ more (and counting) people voted for Hillary Clinton, we're stuck with Trump. Yes, this is only the fifth time that the winner of the popular vote didn't win the Electoral College, but it shouldn't really be a surprise. The system was set up from the beginning because a bunch of old, elite, white men decided not everyone was capable of or deserved choosing the president. Thanks to these dudes, climate change, women's rights, international relations, safety from guns, the right to healthcare, freedom of religion, LGBT rights, the free press, and more are all at grave risk.

I want to explain something, though: I don't disrespect people who support Trump's/Republican economic or foreign policy, etc., arguments. That requires thought and understanding. I know I have plenty of friends who voted for Trump who are also educated, so I won't stoop so low as to call them uneducated or ignorant. What I don't understand, what genuinely confuses me, is people, particularly Christians, who proclaim that they love everyone yet voted for a man who showed hatred and disdain for SO MANY. People's character may be defined by more than this vote and this election, but to me, voting for and supporting a man with this huge lack of a moral compass, who spent 17 months campaigning on hatred, bias, racism, and fear, says a lot about who people are. I don't understand. I don't understand how you can claim to love people and support hatred. I don't understand how Christians can claim to follow Jesus in one breath and support shunning, attacking, and demeaning the very people Jesus would spend time with in the next. I just don't understand.

There are so many stories of racial, religious, and sexually motivated crimes and harassment that have happened since Donald Trump won the election. Women being grabbed in public. Muslims having their hijabs and turbans thrown off. African Americans threatened with lynchings. Vandalism of minorities' property. White supremacist graffiti. Racial slurs being thrown. Nazi slogans shouted. And on and on. This new "great" America scares me to no end.

If you voted for Trump and don't want people to be angry with you for helping usher in the new acceptance and glorification of hate crimes in America or call you a racist/sexist/misogynist/Islamophobe/homophobe, etc., then do something to prove you're not. Stand up for the ones whose lives are being threatened. Say to the white supremacists that they don't get to win, even if they think they do. Call on the President-Elect to rebuke this rhetoric and these attacks again and again until he listens. Do something. Because if you helped pave the way for this, and do nothing to fight back against it or stop it when you know what is going on, then you're partially responsible. As late-night talk show host Samantha Bee said, if Muslims have to take responsibility for every member of their community, white people, then so do we.

I want to believe the best in people, but right now, I have a hard time doing that. I'm angry. Many of my friends are minorities in one way or another, and they're being threatened by people, many of whom use the name of God to justify it. I thought this country was better than racism and hatred and bigotry. I was heartbreakingly wrong and I'm terrified of the effect the next 4 years will have on this country.

But no matter what, I love my country. And I always will. Donald Trump and his people can't take that away from me.

Here's a story about a girl.

There are a million things I could say about the "Trump Tapes," but anything I could say about how disgusting it is has already been said a million times, usually by people much more eloquent than me. It's hard for me to get my words out clearly when I'm kind of blinded with pain and anger.

So instead, I'm gonna tell you a story. A story I haven't told to anyone before this weekend.

Every fall, my town hosts a weekend-long event downtown called the Mullet Festival (mullet as in the fish, not the haircut, just to be clear). I haven't been in years due to being at Campbell and then in New York, but when I was younger, we'd go pretty much every year.

On Saturday night of the festival, there was a series of performances by various bands, some local, some the town has gotten to come specifically for the weekend. It was usually a pretty crowded, fun time. And in this town, by the time we were pre-teens, my mom would kind of let us wander around the main area, as long as we knew when and where to meet her. You don't really have to worry about things going wrong in this town; it's kind of the stereotypical small town in that bad things rarely happen, and people tend to watch out for each other.

Well, one of these weekends, I was either 10 or 11 (I don't remember exactly), I was wandering through the crowd of people, when I ran into a group of four Marines. (My town is about 20 minutes from the largest Marine Corps base on the east coast, so plenty of Marines live in this town or on the outskirts and come to the festival to hang out.) I've always looked much older in age than I really am, so I didn't look like a pre-teen, and these Marines immediately latched on to me. Despite my limited experience with seeing people drinking alcohol, I could pretty much immediately tell they were drunk, so I knew I needed to get out of there.

But it was far too crowded for me to just run, and as I tried to maneuver my way through the crowd, they followed me.

"Baby, where are you going?"

"Pretty girl, come back."

"We just want to talk to you, beautiful."

They were right at my back, pretty much, shouting these things over the music and grabbing onto my shoulders and arms, attempting to wrap their arms around my chest, anything they could get their hands on. Luckily for me, it was crowded enough, they were drunk enough, and I was strong enough that they couldn't get a real grasp on me. I'm still not sure how I managed to get away when they started trying to pull me backwards, other than sheer force of will. I didn't know anything about sex, but even at that age, I knew that guys take advantage of girls, especially when they're in groups.

By some miracle, after they followed me all through the crowd, I spotted my sister, who is 4.5 years older than me right at the same time as these much older and more attractive girls grabbed the Marines' attention. I'm still not sure if they were just trying to look out for me and get them off of me, or if they were just girls who thought guys in uniform were super attractive, but I didn't care. I took the opportunity and bolted. I didn't tell my sister, or my mom, or anyone what happened, but I sure didn't leave their sides for the rest of the night.

For a long time, I just blew it off as "oh, drunk guys do stupid things when they're drunk," but as I got into high school and learned more about sex, sexuality, and guys, I realized just how wrong it was. I know it's nothing compared to the assault and rape that a lot of women have to survive, but it was still traumatizing enough to me to think about what could have happened. I know now that if there hadn't been a crowd of people around, there would have been no way I could have gotten away from them.

This is why what Donald Trump said matters. I don't care if you want to say it was "just words." It is a microcosm of the prevalent American culture in which men believe that they are entitled to women's time, attention, and bodies. These Marines, without knowing anything about me, including my age, believed that they had the right to force me to stay and talk to them, and do God knows what else that they wanted. They didn't take my instant response of leaving as soon as they came toward me as a sign I didn't want to talk to them; they saw it as a sign they needed to follow me until I gave them what they wanted.

When a man kisses, or gropes, or grabs, or follows a woman without her consent, he removes her autonomy. He takes away her right to make decisions about what she wants and with whom she wants to interact. He reverts back to previous centuries when a woman was nothing more than property for him to own, not an equal, beautiful image-bearer of God. He distorts the idea of God-given rights and removes the humanity from a person standing right in front of him.

And when a man boasts about doing those things to women, he perpetuates the culture to other men around him, particularly the younger men, that doing it is not only okay, it's a sign of masculinity and power. Women become conquests, games, trophies, as though he who wins the most wins the game of life. And it isn't until men boldly stand up and show others around them that women are meant to be more than that that this culture will change.

Donald Trump has immense influence right now. He has millions of people who are not only following his every move, but who are supporting him wholeheartedly. And when stories like this comes out, and his idea of an apology is to include an attack on someone else, he is telling millions of men and boys who are watching him that his actions are okay and something to model their own actions after. Not only that, he's reminding women and girls everywhere, especially the millions who have been raped, assaulted, or molested, that their wants and desires don't matter. To willingly perpetuate rape culture and the reality of toxic masculinity on the largest political stage in the world is not only hurtful to so many, it's dangerous. It's dangerous not just for this generation, but for the generations to come who will learn from us.

To Mr. Trump, I refuse to buy into your reality. I refuse to believe that it's normal or okay for men to talk the way that you do/did. (I know plenty of men, and athletes who practically live in locker rooms - none of them would talk like that.) I refuse to accept the idea that I am less than you because of my gender. I refuse to relinquish my dignity, needs, and desires, to those of men and boys who have been taught they have the right to have me whenever they want. I refuse to sit back and allow this culture to continue without saying something. And it's by sharing my story and writing this post that I hope I might offer one more story and example of why what you said really isn't "just words." We are more than just objects for the taking, Mr. Trump. I hope one day you will understand that, or at the very least, that your sons will.

Do Something

Today's a historic day. And not just for my friends in the UK, but, in my opinion, also a historic day for the world.

Today, Queen Elizabeth II became Britain's longest-reigning monarch at 63 years, 7 months, 3 days and counting.

That's 23,226 days, in case you were wondering.

She has been on the throne for almost three times as long as I have been alive (8486 days). Mommom was just shy of 14 when Elizabeth became Queen, and she barely remembers what it was like before her with King George VI on the throne.

That's just mind-boggling to me. Maybe it's because I'm a history nerd, but I was thinking earlier about how many wars she's seen, how many political eras she's outlasted, how many crises she's surpassed, and it's just crazy. People think living to be 63 is no big deal, but she's been the royal leader of a country for that long.

I love the UK and the British monarchy, so I was reading a bunch of articles earlier about this, and The Today Show mentioned how when she was 21, four years before she took the throne, she swore to the people of Great Britain that she would devote her life to serving them for however long she was alive. At 21, she promised to live a life that would no longer be just her own. I know she'd been trained for that her whole life, but to understand the magnitude of what she was getting into at an age when most people are instinctively only thinking about themselves is a beautiful thing to me.

And she has. Through 12 Prime Ministers and 11 US Presidents, she has served them. Today, on this historic day, while she's supposed to be on her "summer vacation" in Scotland, she got on a train and went to open a new rail line. I can't even imagine what is going to happen in the world, and specifically in the UK, when she finally dies. My mom likes to joke that she's going to die "literally on the throne" (and I'm sure she's not the only one), but it's going to be a difficult and major shift in the world.

But this day has gotten me thinking. I don't know if I'm going to get 23,226 days. None of us do. But I need to make good use of however many days I am given, because I only get one chance at this. I only get one chance to help people, to make a difference, to show people what it looks like to live for something greater than yourself.

People have often commented on how amazing it is that I can find joy in the smallest things in life (I think The Vespers were the first ones to tell that to me straight), and I'll tell you what I told each one of them. When you have some of the best doctors in the world telling you that, by all medical standards, you should be dead, your perspective will shift to see how big of a miracle every single day really is. As cheesy as it sounds, I wake up every single day knowing that I am beating all sorts of odds, not just by being in New York and making it to grad school, but by being alive at all. I've been given a second (or a third, or fourth, or fifth, I don't know, I've lost count) chance at life beyond all worldly reasoning, so I want to do something with it.

And I don't just mean, oh I want to get married, or have kids, or work at the State Department, or whatever. I want to make an impact. I want to know that when I die, I'll have a legacy left behind.

I want to do something powerful.

I want to do something beautiful.

I want to do something crazy.

I want to do something world-changing.

I want to do something helpful.

I just want to do something.

What? I have no idea right now. I'll leave that up to the One who knows far better than I.

LOVE WINS

I have dreamed of and waited for this day for years, but I am far more ecstatic than I ever thought I would be. When your best friend is gay, there is a whole new level of pain and frustration in knowing that they are seen as second-class citizens, not afforded one of the most basic rights that you are given. This day and this news means infinitely more to me now because of my friendship with Clayton. I know that this is far from the end of the road, but this is a huge step forward.

On Leaving Space For Forgiveness When We Don't Want To

I struggle with my own sense of justice.
I struggle with the idea that as a Christian, I must leave space for forgiveness even as I rightfully demand accountability for my enemies' actions.
I struggle to accept the fact that believing in the radical transforming grace of God compels me to believe that grace abounded on that beach in Libya in ways I don't comprehend or want to accept.
I struggle with the boundless depths of God's love and forgiveness.
I struggle with the gospel.

Zack Hunt wrote that. I quoted it in my post back in February on how ISIS killing those Christians on the beach in Libya got me thinking about my walk with God. And now I'm thinking about it all over again as today, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, aka the Boston Bomber, was found guilty of all 30 counts he was charged with relating to the attack and the manhunt in the days after, and now the jury is deliberating on whether or not he should receive the death penalty, since something like 17 of his 30 counts carry that possible punishment.

My instinct is to say KILL HIM! Take his life like he took others'. Make him die like he did that innocent 8-year-old boy who was there to watch the race with his family. He has no concern for the lives of others, why should we have concern for his?

But then, I can't help but remember that there is no "sin scale". I have grieved God's heart just as much as this guy has. I can't expect there to be grace for me and not for someone else, even if it doesn't seem fair to me. I don't WANT there to be grace for Tsarnaev. But if I ask God to deny him grace and forgiveness, if I tell God that's what is "fair," then I might as well tell him to shun me and send me out because His forgiveness and grace over me and my life certainly is not what is fair.

We are not any more special to God than he is. Our sin just took a different path.  Humans have a hard time with love that is 100% unconditional, but God doesn't know any other kind. As Christians, we are supposed to pray for non-believers to come to know the Lord, no? And aren't we supposed to try to help them come to know the saving grace of Jesus, the grace that we know has transformed our lives? If we kill Tsarnaev because that is what the justice system has deemed appropriate, we're ripping that chance away from him. We're taking the possibility of an eternity of forgiveness and new life and holding it back; it's saying, "Sorry, you've screwed up too badly. You've done too much wrong. You can't come back from this." How many times do we feel that way about ourselves, but are able to rest in the knowledge that we serve a God of second chances? I know that, for me, it's quite often. I'm not saying that it's a guarantee that if he spends his life in a prison cell, Tsarnaev will absolutely, definitely have some moment of epiphany and turn his whole life around and live for Jesus, but if he's alive, there's still hope. The second his last breath leaves his lungs, that hope dies out. The hope and mercy of God doesn't come with any corollaries or conditions; it's there for any of us, no matter what we've done.

There is one thing that I try to remember, especially when I get angry that someone I feel doesn't deserve a second chance gets one: Jesus died for the sin of the WORLD. Not the sin of Christians. Because I know how it feels to realize that Jesus died to win my heart back when I felt so far gone, I can't pretend that he didn't die to win this guy's life, too, whether or not he accepts that sacrifice. I believe deep in my gut that just as God grieved for the lives lost and the bodies injured and all the lives irrevocably changed, He also grieved for the Tsarnaev brothers, for their choices, for the anger ruling their minds and lives, for their belief that this was the right way to go. As the bombs erupted and the screams echoed through the streets of Boston, His love never wavered for them, not even for a second.

Now please, hear me out. I am in no way trying to diminish the pain that the people of Boston have felt over the past two years as they have fought to rebuild their lives. My heart breaks for them and the ways in which their lives are stuck in this "new normal". And I am absolutely not saying that the anger is not justified. Anger is a completely natural, 100% valid emotion here. (And I don't think God would tell us not to be angry. The God I know allows us to feel things, even the bad stuff.) What I am saying is that if we let that anger win out and rule our decision making and how we treat Tsarnaev, then we're losing all over again. We lose the chance to show the enemy that mercy and grace can still shine bright even in the darkest of darkness.

If we really believe that God's goodness is as boundless as we say, we have to leave space for forgiveness, no matter for whom, no matter what.

How ISIS got me thinking about my walk with God.

ABC has a TV show called What Would You Do? in which they act out awful scenarios in public, from parents gay bashing their son to a parent attempting to drive drunk with their small child to robbery to a store owner refusing service to a Muslim man and on and on, so they can record the bystanders to see if they will intervene and stand up for the victim in the scenario and then interview those bystanders after they reveal that it was all an act. I don't watch it with any regularity but any time I have made it through an episode, I've been left with the feeling of "Oh, I absolutely would have done something!" and, if the bystanders did not intervene in any way, "How could they not say something?!" It's so easy to say that you would do something to help others when you're not in front of the situation. Don't psychologists literally call it the "bystander effect"? I feel so confident in how I would react, forgetting that things might be completely different in my thought process when I'm actually in the moment.

About a week ago, the world received a devastating video in which ISIS militants beheaded 21 Egyptian Christians on a beach in Libya. The attackers made it perfectly clear that they were doing this because of the faith of these men. We all know this isn't the first recorded ISIS murder in recent weeks, but from my knowledge, it is the first one that had religious motivation and one of few that actually showed the act of the murder - the other videos of beheadings only showed the decapitated head next to the body of the captive after the fact. (Forgive me if I have any facts incorrect here, I haven't been able to stomach actually watching any of the videos.)

I haven't watched the videos, but I have read many articles and stared at I don't even know how many pictures of these men who were taken to their deaths just because they decided to travel many miles to provide for their families. Their faces have haunted me this past week as I watched them pray while the ISIS leader spoke, knowing full well what was coming. Just yesterday, I learned that they all yelled out "Jesus is Lord!" as the knives hit their throats, defying their captors and executioners to the very last second they had.

Throughout this week, my mind has been bombarded with the question of what would you do? as I learned more and more of the story of these 21 martyrs. Would I really be willing to go to my death for my faith and my Lord? Would I really refuse to convert even if it meant giving up the chance to save my life and go back to my family? Would I really say yes and give up everything I see now as comfort if it meant I would die? Would I trust in God's love for me even as an enemy held a knife to my throat?

I want to say yes...I want to be confident that I am that committed to God...but the truth is, I'm a bit nervous that I'm not. I'm not sure that I would go that far and be willing to martyr myself. Because I'm still human. I'm still self-centered to some extent. And I'm still afraid of really hard things. Maybe I'm being too rough on myself, maybe I'm not the only one who would be unsure in that moment. All I know to do right now is to pray that God refines my heart so that I can become that confident, that I can become willing to risk it all to be with Jesus.

Just now, this quote from Lecrae came to mind: If I'm wrong about God, then I've wasted my life. If you're wrong about God, you've wasted your eternity. Those 21 men, the only hope that their families have now, is that they're with the Lord who loves them so dearly. One of my favorite verses, Revelation 12:11, begins "And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony..." but what is important is the end of that verse - "for they loved not their lives even unto death." Those men had families that love them, but they loved God more. They have taught me a lesson I didn't realize I still needed; I can only pray that I would love God like they did, so that I could make the same decision were I ever to be faced with it. My Savior deserves everything from me. My life, and even my death. Just like He gave His.

This week, I've also been thinking a lot about the men who stood behind these Egyptian prisoners. The ones in all black with the masks hiding their identities. The ones with the long knives holding their illusions of power. Men who have just as much right to the life-saving Gospel of Jesus Christ as I do.

Agh, it made my skin crawl to even type that sentence. They don't deserve God's love. How can Jesus say I'm supposed to forgive monsters? Make them PAY. Those are all things that naturally come to mind when I think about the men of ISIS who killed these 21 innocent Egyptians. As Zack Hunt said in his post "Why ISIS Causes Me To Struggle With The Gospel":

I struggle with my own sense of justice.
I struggle with the idea that as a Christian, I must leave space for forgiveness even as I rightfully demand accountability for my enemies' actions.
I struggle to accept the fact that believing in the radical transforming grace of God compels me to believe that grace abounded on that beach in Libya in ways I don't comprehend or want to accept.
I struggle with the boundless depths of God's love and forgiveness.
I struggle with the gospel.

I don't want Jesus to say that if they believed in his death and resurrection, they would be just as clean and forgiven and righteous as me, or my friends, or basically anyone I know who's never killed anybody. I don't want God to have grace for them, the same grace he had for the men who died, for the ones they loved now left behind, for me. I don't want to pray for them. I don't want to admit that they need or deserve prayer or grace, perhaps more than most. I can't even begin to accept that Jesus loves them or went to the cross for them or grieved for them and their actions like he grieved for those precious lives lost.

It doesn't seem just. Or fair. Or okay. It feels like it's negating the value of the martyrs' lives, the ones who gave everything for God. It feels like God is saying those animals, those killers, can do anything and get away with it because God will still love them no matter how many people they kill or how many lives they damage.

Oh wait.

I may not have killed anyone or committed religious persecution, but I've done some damage to other children of God. I've grieved the heart of my Father. And there's still grace for me. That's what forgiveness and mercy are for. One of the things that's different about God is that He doesn't make exceptions. There is no ranking for sinners. We are ALL loved. We are ALL forgiven. And we are ALL welcomed into the Kingdom if we just believe. No ifs, ands, or buts. No corollaries. Again, as Zack Hunt said:

Do I really believe in radical, transforming grace and forgiveness for all? Or do I just believe in grace and forgiveness for me?

One of the reasons Jesus was so radical was because he hung out with the people deemed unworthy, the outcasts. He didn't shun anyone, not even the murderers (if he did, we wouldn't have Paul. THAT Paul. Yeah...) I've been an outcast. It's not fun. And I've certainly done plenty of things that make me unworthy of God's love, mercy, and forgiveness. So who the heck am I to tell Him to leave out someone else when He was kind enough to let me back in? How can I talk about how I know God can change anyone's life but inwardly tell him to not even bother with certain lives?

That's the thing about the Gospel. That radical, transforming grace that flipped everything I thought I knew about life and this world on its head, it's there available to anyone. And I do mean anyone.

Even when it doesn't seem fair.

Even when I don't like it.

Even when it makes no sense.

Thank God for that.

So. Ferguson.

So many things could be said, but anything I want to say has already been said and often more eloquently than I ever could, so I'll just say that I think an injustice was done, and my prayers are with Michael Brown's family, the people of Ferguson, and everyone in the black community who feels betrayed by the decision that came out. Romans 12:15 says weep with those who weep, and my heart breaks for those who live in a constant state of fear and a feeling of "less-than". I can't imagine.

On a rare occasion, I'm keeping my mouth shut. The whole thing makes my head and hurt ache.

I went to my post-op today, and things are fine, as I expected. I then went to the health center and got medication for my rash, and it helped even after only one use which was awesome. They wanted to set me up with NYU's dermatologist, but I decided to wait and see if this steroid cream takes care of it, which it seems to be, so yay.

Hey, at least I live in a blue state now.

So um yeah....it was election day.

A very painful election for my Democrat heart.

But some humor for me was found in the people who bombarded me with "Impeach Obama. Live longer." posters with complimentary Hitler mustaches when all I was trying to do was get to a doctor appointment. Like literally walking up to me shoving them at me. All I could do was laugh because anyone who uses "Impeach Obama and increase your life expectancy" as a baiting tool is hilariously terrifying.

The rest of the day was music, watching and cringing at election results, and up working late on my paper for my Civil War class. A simple day.

All I'll say is this: two years is a very short time, my friends.

Pride goes before destruction.

Football is back, y'all!

I know, I know, college sports (or professional sports, for that matter) isn't everyone's joy, but it has been eight long months since I got to watch my Wolfpack boys hit the field.  And amazingly, we have 8 of our 12 games at home, which means I get to see a lot of my dear Carter-Finley Stadium, even if it is just on TV.  So needless to say, I've been much looking forward to the start of this season, a new coach, and hopefully a new era for the Red and White.

taken last year when our basketball team made it to the Sweet 16 in the NCAA

But here's something I've been thinking a lot about today, something I think most of us have trouble remembering during sports season.  Every time your team plays, there's another team that plays, too.  And that team has just as faithful of fans as your team does.  So every time you boast about your team and your team's fans, there are opponent fans who read it and see it.  And a lot of the time, those "opponent fans" were people you were close to before the game.  Sports may not be a big deal, but team devotion can bring out the worst in people.  I would know; I've said things about other teams and their fans "in the spirit of being a Wolfpack lover" that I would never dream of saying to people outside of that situation.

Same goes for politics.  In fact, I got a really good lesson in this just today when I responded to a comment someone had made on Twitter about President Obama.  I said something they took as snarky, so they said something snarky in return.  And because I wasn't used to that kind of tone from this person, it left me wondering if I had just screwed up a friendship that means so much to me.  We talked it out later, and when I found out the way they had seen it, I apologized, and thankfully, this person knows me well enough that they wrote back that it was okay because "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

I got lucky that time.  Lucky that that happened with someone who knows my heart very well, well enough to see beyond the times when I inevitably say something wrong.  But I've seen a lot of friendships, and been a part of several of them, be irreparably damaged over things like sports rivalries and opposing political opinions.  And for some reason, all of this today has made me think back to what I said last year before the election, on Twitter where almost all of my followers and I strongly disagree on just about everything political - especially who should have been elected President.

At the end of the day, I like my friends more than I like politics.
— Mallory Jones (@_callmemal) October 4, 2012

I will always, ALWAYS pick my friends and my relationships over politics or sports or any other ultimately trivial hobby, and anybody who knows me knows how much I love both.  But politics doesn't listen to me cry on the phone at midnight.  Sports doesn't text me everyday when I'm in the hospital to make sure I'm okay.  People do.  I don't mean to sound preachy; I'm saying this to myself as much as anyone else, especially after what happened this afternoon.  Hopefully, this lesson will stick with me and I can do better next time.

Your passion about a subject should never be more important than people & relationships or keep you from apologizing when you cross a line.
— Mallory Jones (@_callmemal) August 31, 2013

When I sat down to write this post, the quote "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."  At first, I couldn't decide where it was from, the Bible or Shakespeare (I know, right?! Weird) but Google told me that it is indeed from the Bible.  Proverbs 16:18  And that pretty much confirmed for me that I needed to write this tonight.

Happy football season, y'all.  Try to remember that you loved these people before the season, and be careful to make sure you still love them after.

America

Election Day.  Something I've been working towards since I stepped foot back on this campus on August 19th.  It's over.  I can hardly believe it.

Obama won!  Yes, I am thrilled, but out of respect for my friends who don't like him, there will be no gloating because I will always, always, always like my friends more than I like politics.  So yay, he won, let's move on.

I say let's move on because for me, today is about so much more than who won and who lost.  Days like today make me so, so thankful to be an American and live in this country.

When the heat and intensity of this election dies down, we are still all Americans.  We are all part of the country that is the leader of the free world.  That is something to be celebrated.

Countless numbers of American soldiers put their lives on the line to protect our right to choose our leader.  Susan B. Anthony, Lucretia Mott, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton dedicated their lives to getting me a right that most people thought I didn't deserve because of my gender.  That is something to be celebrated.

When Romney lost, he didn't order his men to go out and assassinate every member of Obama's cabinet.  He did not stage a coup.  Civil war did not break out.  Those are all realities in many countries around the world.  Our peace is something to be celebrated.

It is illegal for anyone to prevent you from voting if you are over the age of 18.  It is illegal for anyone, including the government, to falsify votes or rig the election.  Those are also realities in many countries around the world.  The protection of our right, the view that is a fundamental right and not a privilege, is something to be celebrated.

It honestly pains me to have read everything from "Jesus needs to come, and He needs to come now" to "the Constitution is dead" to "I hope someone assassinates Obama" online tonight (and as for the last one, setting aside the fact that I like Obama, I know what it's like for a daughter to grow up without her dad, and to wish that on Malia and Sasha is just sick - I would never wish the indescribable pain that is losing a parent as a child on anyone, including Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan's children).  The world will not end just because Obama won.  America will still be America when you wake up tomorrow.  You will still be living in the most free country in the world.

If you are reading this, and you are Christian and did not vote for Obama, I ask you to please join me in praying for him, anyway.  Pray for him and Vice President Biden to be safe and to lead this country to a better place over the next four years.  Pray for our Congress to quit focusing on partisan politics and come together to work for the people.  Pray for the people who lead this country because, at the end of the day, it's not about red and blue, Democrat and Republican.  It's about us, the American people.  We all want the same thing, to see this country succeed; we just have different ways of getting there.  The people who lead this amazing country deserve our prayers, no matter what letter is written next to their name.

(Also, it is 1:30 am.  I have a French test at 8:00, and I have not showered, studied or slept because I'm waiting on Obama's acceptance speech.  Tomorrow is going to be interesting.)

It's been a really, really messed up week.

I don't know why "Tonight, Tonight" (by Hot Chelle Rae) is stuck in my head when thinking about today/this week, but it is, so there you go.

Today was a hard day.  I would love nothing more than to vent about why today was so hard and so frustrating, but I can't.  Or maybe it is that I just won't.  Mostly because a lot of why today was so hard had to deal with me figuring out that maybe I don't always make as good of an impression on people as I think I do.  And sometimes, I have to just keep my mouth shut.  I'm thankful that God's forgiveness for my messes never ends, and that He put people in my life who are willing to be brutally honest with me, because that's what I need.

It's November.  That's insane.  I typed out all of my due dates for my papers and projects and tests and finals, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to sleep between now and December 10th.  But I can do this.  I always do.  And I'm feeling better now that I'm off that steroid, so I'm hopeful that I can only get better from here.

I voted today.  Woo.  I'm glad that's done and over with.  I love politics, yes, but more than that, I love that I live in a country where my voice matters and elections are taken so seriously.  It's something to be thankful for, especially when you think of how many people in so many countries don't have this right.

You know what's one of the best feelings ever?  (Well, okay, maybe only if you're a music nerd like I am.)  That moment when you hear a song for the first time, and you get goosebumps.  I don't know why this song gives me goosebumps, but it does.

Yes, it's Taylor Swift.  Don't judge.  I think this is her best record yet.



Another thing I'm thankful for:  When I feel like a big bundle of nerves and emotion, I can always find music that helps me feel better.  Sometimes it's Christian music, sometimes it's cheesy Taylor Swift, sometimes it's 80's rock, depending on the day/mood/situation, but they all have the same effect on me at the end of the day.  It really is the universal language, and something that never fails me.  I'm thankful I found my escape.

The first day of November, and I wrote about a bunch of things I'm thankful for.  That's fitting, I guess.

Tired. Just tired.

Agh.

Well, today is done.

Basically.

I think I'm going to update my to-do list (because turns out I forgot a test, of course) and try the Human Diversity test at least once, depending on how well I do.

I'm exhausted, but not nearly as nauseous so there's a plus.

Nope.  Just tired.

Oh, and did I mention we're having voter suppression issues and the Board of Elections is now trying to nullify every voter registration we've done?  Even Louis got turned away at the polls.  Yeah.  It's fun.  That means we have to try and make sure 200+ people get re-registered and early vote at the one stop voting by Saturday.

Just what we needed.  This means I have to work a table every minute Friday that I'm not in class.

I'd really like to just fast forward a week.  A week from now is where I won't have 5 tests in 5 school days hanging over my head, or the threat of the egotistical CRs making my life hell should Romney win.  I'd just like it to be over.

Can you tell how tired I am?  Because I am.  I am just tired.

Okay, enough whining.  Back to work.

Change of plans.

When you wake up on an unexpected day off with horrendous migraine, and then sleep all day, you don't get work done.

When it's 10:45 pm, and you have a 2-page paper due at 2:00 the next day that you haven't started yet, and you have an early wake-up call for class, you don't have time to blog about a topic that's been weighing on you.

I have to get this paper written and I can't stop watching Barack Obama speak at the DNC.  Fun fact: My mom watched him speak (on TV) at the 2004 DNC when he was just a Senator from Illinois and said, "Mal, there's our first African-American president."

Anyway, sorry for no blog, but school must come first!  I have get this paper done tonight, as opposed to during the break I have between classes tomorrow because YAY, Paddy is coming! :)

It's gonna be a good weekend....as soon as this stupid paper gets out of my way.

Isaac, you suck.

I mean, really?  Of all the directions you could've gone after you passed Florida, you picked to go RIGHT OVER CHARLOTTE?

Not cool.  Seriously, not cool.

So uh yeah.  I'm not going to the DNC tomorrow.  Hurricane Isaac (or is it a Tropical Storm now?) is currently sitting over Charlotte and brought all sorts of lovely thunderstorms with him.  You can't exactly hold a political convention in an uncovered arena with 70,000 people during a thunderstorm, sooooo.....they moved it.  They moved it to the Time Warner Cable Arena, which has about 50,000 less seats than the Bank  of America Stadium does.  There's barely going to be enough space for all of the delegates, so all Community Credentials are officially null and void.

On the upside, all Community Credentials holders get a special conference call with the President tomorrow afternoon, and the Democratic Party is doing everything they can to get him back to NC before Election Day to have a special event with Community Credentials holders.  Plus, I won't be up before the sun and stay up for almost 24 hours and I'll be well rested for Paddy when he arrives Friday.

On the downside, I WAS GOING TO SEE BARACK OBAMA IN PERSON!

Sigh.  You can't control the weather.

I posted about this on  Facebook, and my British mum (Paddy's mom) commented "You are so positive and upbeat in the face of such a disappointment."  Um, well, let's see.  My British brother is coming to spend the weekend with me the day after tomorrow.  I get to catch up on some precious sleep tomorrow so I'll actually be conscious and lively when he gets here.  Sunday, I get to see my mom and my best friend on the planet, and I get to introduce said best friend to the British version of him (which is surely going to be hilarious).  It's pretty darn simple to be positive and upbeat when something so amazing is waiting for you.

Speaking of said best friend, I texted him on-and-off for like eight hours today, and part of that conversation is still cracking me up.

Me: By the way, I'm still laughing about you telling me it's your "role" to protect me. :)
Matt: Well it is!
Me: And I'm not allowed to protect you?
Matt: No, damn it! That's not how it woooorrrkkksss!
Me: So what is MY role, oh wise one? Lol.
Matt:  Be my lil sis and stay outta trouble so I ain't gotta come whoop some ass.
Me: That's hilarious coming from you since you're quite possibly the least physically confrontational guy I've ever met.
Matt: Cause it hasn't had to come out yet!
Me: Hahahaha. Oh gosh. If all the guys in my past treating me like crap wasn't enough to bring that out, I wonder what will.  And just so we're clear, what trouble do I need to stay out of, Mr. "I want you to have life experiences"? (This conversation? Hands down the highlight of my day.)
Matt: Lol, I mean I want you to experience but when you fall in love, have sex, and then get crushed, that's when it'll come out!
Me: Hahahahahahahahaha. Oh, I love you and your heart for me, sweetheart.  That still doesn't tell me what trouble I need to stay out of, though. :p
Matt: Ya know, don't get arrested.  Experience everything, just don't get caught.

He's such a good influence on me. ;)  Then, we got into details about something that is probably going to be my blog post for tomorrow, so that's all you get for now.  Seriously, though, I love that kid.  Few people get the kind of relationship he and I now have, so it's not lost on me how lucky I am.

But yeah.  I'm gonna save the rest of that for tomorrow.  I'm tired.  I just want to finish listening to the DNC and go to bed.  Since I don't have to go to my one class since I took the test yesterday, I plan on staying in my pajamas the entire day.

And it will be AWESOME.

And just like that, it was over.

I got up at 6:30 and got ready and went down to the hotel restaurant to eat breakfast...not knowing the convention was providing breakfast upstairs for free.  Of course.  At least the food was good.

At 8:00, the LGBT Caucus started, and I was SO excited to get to hear Zach Wahls speak.  You may or may not know who he is.  He's a now 21-year-old guy from Iowa who got Internet-famous at the beginning of last year when this video of him went viral.



One week he's a 19-year-old college kid in Iowa talking to the State House about why the marriage of his two lesbian moms is just as valid as heterosexual marriages, the next week the dude is on Ellen Degeneres.   Ah, the power of the 21st century.  This video now has over 17 million views; I watched it again tonight since I got to see him in person today, and it still makes me cry.

Anyway, I have been a huge fan of Zach since I first saw this video not long after it hit the web.  So getting up that early was more than worth it for me.  There were a couple of other speakers before him, and it was just a really powerful and moving and still funny meeting.  Zach, though...that kid seems like he was born for public speaking.  It's a good thing he put his environmental engineering degree on hold for public speaking and a book deal.  Can you imagine getting all of that from one Youtube video?!

I haven't seen very many speakers who could blend humor and seriousness as seamlessly as he can.  I was nearly in tears at one point and laughing loudly at others.  The best part, though, was getting to talk to him afterwards.  To most of us, it felt like we were meeting a celebrity at first (because, well, we kind of were), but he's just real, down-to-earth and so funny, he put us all right at ease.  I had actually met him last night at the reception, and when I asked him if I could get a picture there, he responded, "Well, uh, can we do it tomorrow when I'm not holding a glass of whiskey?"  That's just who he is.  So when he was standing around talking to about 10 of us adoring girls, Jillian asked for a picture first, and I was standing right next to her.  After I took one for her, Zach asked me if I wanted one, too.  I responded, "Yes, of course.  After all, you promised me one last night."  And he laughed and replied, "Yes, yes, I did! You remembered!"

After pictures, I mentioned something from his speech, where he talked about some Conservatives that his family with two moms isn't a "real" family, and I said, "I come at that from a different perspective.  My dad died when I was 7."  He immediately responded, "Well, I guess you don't have a real family then.  Too bad for you!"  And all of us cracked up.  Jillian and I got to talk to him for about 15 minutes after the rest of the crowd trickled out before he had to go start digging through his ginormous email inbox.

Okay, that's all the Zach stories.  I promise.  It was just such an honor to meet and talk to him, I can't help but ramble on a bit about it.  He and Duke were hands down the highlights of the convention for me. :)

After that, I wasn't really interested in any of the caucuses that were going on, so I went back up to my room and took a nap until Louis texted me to bring my suitcase to the boys' room so they could take it down to the car.  Then, I went to this training session on using digital media, but Chris interrupted before it started and said we were leaving.

Yeah, I was disappointed.  Apparently Louis and Chris were unhappy with the planning of the weekend and they weren't interested in staying, which basically meant I had no choice in the matter.  But oh well, at least I had some good memories from the time I was actually there.

We left about 12:15, stopped at Cookout for lunch (my first time there, delicious!), and got back to Campbell about 3:45.  I spent the rest of the day dealing with drama (not important for now, please don't ask), unpacking, and generally just trying to wind down.  Thank God this is Labor Day weekend because I'm gonna need the next two days to get caught up on all the homework I have from missing classes Friday and getting the reading done for this coming week.  I gave myself tonight off, though, because it was a really long day.  I did do laundry, though, so at least I did something productive.

Now, I'm off to bed.  My first political convention is done.  I'm really happy.  This field is definitely where I belong.  :)

The good kind of crazy.

Ah, Day 2.

Well, because of my much-later-than-expected night last night, I slept in until it was time to get up for lunch.  They were actually serving us lunch, so yay for not having to spend money on that meal.  The lunch break was two hours, so I went back to my room and hung out until the training sessions started back at 2:00.

Then, I went to a training session about campaign invasions.  It sounds way cooler than it actually is; invasion just means a whole group of people go into a town or a part of a city and start knocking on doors.  It was pretty cool, though.

At 3:00, there was a "Meet the Candidates" session, in which we were able to ask questions of the people running for positions on the National Board, but since all the candidates were running unopposed, it was more like "Meet the New Officers."  Haha.

At 5:00, we broke for dinner.  There were extra sandwich bags (with chips, an apple, and a cookie) left over from lunch, so I got one of those for dinner.  The turkey was really good.  I just hung out in my room until the dinner break was over because I seriously was exhausted.  Thursday night was really rough.

At 7:00, I went down to the hotel bar where CDA was having a reception.  They had chips and this really good cheese dip. This girl came up and introduced herself because she heard me say I was from North Carolina when I asked a question at the "Meet the Candidates" session.  Her name is Jillian; she was really nice, and we spent most of the night hanging out and talking.  While we were sitting there, she noticed Rob, the Youth Vote director for Obama for America, talking to some guy we had never seen before, and she wanted to know who he was.  And seeing as I'm not shy, like, ever, I basically just got up, walked over, and when there was a break in the conversation, I asked who he was.  He said his name was Duke, and Rob said he was a surrogate for Obama.  We talked for a few minutes about what it's like to work for the President and actually get to meet him and talk to him and shake his hand (seeing as Obama is one of my heroes, I was enthralled by the conversation), but then he had to give his big speech.

Rob introduced him, and one of the first lines out of his mouth was "This is James Duke Mason.  He's the son of Belinda Carlisle of the Go-Go's."

Holy. cow.

Turns out "Duke" is actually a quite famous LGBT activist.  He gave a really beautiful speech about why this election is so key for the Democratic Party, and it's about a lot more than gay rights.  Afterwards, we talked off and on, because he had lots of people to meet, and when I wasn't talking to him, I was mingling with the crowd and meeting lots of great people.  At one point, he and I were both talking to a couple of guys, and Duke looked over at me and said "This is Mallory" not knowing I'd already met the guys before.  One guy just randomly came up and introduced himself to me; I still have no idea how he knew who I was.  Then all three of them started talking about how "inspiring" I am because I'd ended up talking to all of them about how passionate I am about fight for rights for the LGBT community.  Which I personally find ridiculous knowing what Duke has done all by himself, but it was very flattering.  I had a great conversation with Duke about how this issue is important to me, even as a heterosexual woman.  But everyone there was just great.  I had a lot of fun.  I stayed down there until about 9:30 when I was just really tired.

The coolest part?  Before Duke left to go get a late dinner with Rob and some other OFA staff, we traded cell phone numbers and email addresses.  He's hoping to get back to NC before Election Day, and he said he'd love to come speak at Campbell.

I have the contact info of a celebrity and the son of one of the most famous female singer-songwriters of all time.  That guy might come to Campbell.

Seriously, y'all.  How is this my life?!

The ending to the night was absolutely unexpected and so, so crazy, but it's the kind of crazy I like.  The good kind of crazy.  The kind of crazy that makes your jaw drop and makes you lose the ability to think of any words other than "God, You are so awesome."

Oh yeah, this is Duke.  Isn't he just adorable? :)

Off to Charlotte.

(Okay, so per what seems to a tradition in hotels in big cities, the internet would have cost me $12 a day.  That wasn't going to happen.  So this post and the next two posts about the CDA Convention are being written Saturday night now that I'm back at Campbell.)

You know how "they" say that when you're waiting for something, time seems to move in slow motion?  Yeah...that's absolutely true.

Today was so long.  I got up, ate, and went to the post office before class.  My 80-minute Human Diversity class felt like it was 3 hours.

Then, I went by Dr. Thornton's office to get his advice about transferring in my credits from Georgetown where I got some AWESOME news: I don't have to take Constitutional Law!  That is a HUGE, HUGE relief for me.  For one, it's taught by a professor that I just don't get along with very well.  It's also apparently really hard.  And since I'm not going to go to law school, I don't really need in-depth Constitution education, so Dr. Thornton said he sees no reason why my Theories of Constitutional Interpretation class from TFAS shouldn't transfer.  Thank you, TFAS.  You're paying off only four weeks later. :)

That meeting didn't take very long, and then I came back to my room and finished the last-minute packing.  I changed into some business clothes for the reception tonight.  Just before 3:30, I walked down to Louis' apartment, and he came back from picking up Chris and we went to get Bria.  Then, we were FINALLY on the road.

The schedule was really unclear, so we didn't find out until we were on the ride down there that the reception was actually starting at 6:00, instead of 6:30.  So we were going to be late.  Then, of course, we ran into a four-car wreck right in the middle of Charlotte, so we basically didn't get there and checked in until 7:00.  All we did this night was go to the reception, meet some people, and hear the Secretary of the Democratic National Committee speak, and then a whole bunch of us went to get something to eat up the street at Wild Wings in Charlotte's epicenter.  There was a guy there that Louis has known for a while, but there were also some people that we had just met.  It was a LOT of fun.

It ended up being a much later night than I expected, and I didn't take a single picture, but it was a great start to the convention.  When I went to bed, I was incredibly anxious for Day 2.

I don't know how I'm still awake.

I barely slept last night.  I didn't even get in bed until 1 am, and for some reason, it's now impossible for me to fall asleep without laying there for at least half an hour first, and then I got up at 6:30.

I'm fairly sure I've said this about a thousand times, but I don't do well on less than five hours of sleep.  Truth be told, I can partially thank the medications I take for that one.

But it is what it is, and I got up and went to class.  And then both Ryann and the other guy in our French history class were sick, so it was me talking to Dr. Steegar in French for 50 minutes by myself.  I've never had a one-on-one session with him like that before.  Immediately after that, I had French lit in which I had to translate pieces of a work from the 12th century (and that's just when the first written account is from, the original story is from the 9th century).  Luckily the French was modernized, but the story was SO BORING.  It was like Beowulf minus the crazy sci-fi monsters and stuff.

Then, I came back to my room and took a nap from 10:30 to 12:00.  I got up, went and ate lunch, and then went to Comparative Foreign Government and Municipal Government.  Luckily both of those professors are lively enough that they kept me from falling asleep.

Knowing that if I took another nap, there would be no chance of me sleeping at a reasonable hour, I forced myself to stay awake by doing lots of random things for a couple hours.

At 5:30, I went and had dinner with Louis, my friend Summer who has magically become a Democrat, and Deagan.  It was so much fun.  We spent two hours just talking politics.  I have a great group of friends.  It's nice to be around people who love to talk about the same stuff you do.

Then, I came back and rewrote some notes because the original copy was really messy.  After that, I started doing laundry and packing and whatnot because YAY, we leave for the College Democrats of America Convention in Charlotte tomorrow afternoon.  I'm so excited!  I plan on taking my computer with me in case I have time to blog at the end of each night, but if not, don't freak out, we'll be back late Saturday night, and I'll update as soon as I can.

Okay, I'm tired.  (Gee, I wonder why.)  My laundry is done and I've packed all that I could, so I am going to bed.  These pictures are just some more from the cookout, but they were taken by a girl from the school paper who obviously had a really nice camera.  I'm posting them because I like them better than my crappy cell phone pics, and because a couple of them make me laugh.

Oh yes.  I asked questions.  And yes, that's plural.  What can I say?  No one else was talking and it's a US Congressman!  I love how Brad and Steve and that other lady are watching me so intently.

Yeah...I talk with my hands.  A lot.

Louis said I'm in like half of the pictures that have Mr. Etheridge in them.  I find that awesome, and totally plausible.  I love him, Mom LOVES him, and it's a US CONGRESSMAN!  

This one cracks me up because I have absolutely no memory of pointing so awkwardly like that.

Louis posted on Twitter that this picture is "perfect on so many levels."  They are totally cheesing, so I must've been saying something hilarious.  Which is funny, because I don't remember what I said that could've been that funny, either.

I love this picture.  It's my new profile picture on Facebook. :)

At the end, the people who were still there got to take a group shot with all the candidates and Mr. Etheridge.

A brighter shot of the officers.

Chris, me, and Louis.  The invincible trio. :D  I kept calling them "my boys" and I have no idea why.

Convention tomorrow! But first, Human Diversity and a meeting with Dr. Thornton, and a 3 hour car ride.

I really need sleep.