The Daily Diamond

Slovakian, Turkmenian, Russian, Panamanian, Venezuelan, Indian, Salvadoran, Serbian, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Somalian, Laotian, Argentinian, Nigerian, Ethiopian, Emirati, English, Nepalese, Vietnamese,  Japanese, Chinese, Maltese, Guyanese, French, Filipino, and the list goes on. These are, for the most part, the foreign nationals I've interacted with the past few months—at work. Their jobs are varied, their experience extensive. It is incredible to talk with them about their lives. I might not love everything about my job, but I do love the multifarious (adj.: having or occurring in great variety) interactions I have with these people.

While I was covering the front desk today, watching people come in and out of the building, my mind wandered to these experiences, and I compiled this list. It reminded me that I experience the unusual and incredible every day.

Standing Corrected, Gratefully

One of my co-workers is particularly talented in handling people. Her aptitude for defusing potentially paroxysmal (adj.: sudden violent emotion or action : outburst) predicaments is astounding. I, on the other hand, find myself flopping around like a swordfish on firewood when the shadow of conflict presents itself.

She saw me struggling to resolve a volatile situation today. What was not obvious to me was very obvious to her, and while she watched me work, I knew she knew I didn't know what I as doing. Poorly handled on my part. So she took over, and not in a pedantic way. It was very gentle—of which I am grateful; I, like most people, have an ego. Then I got to see a master weave her artwork. No doubt I felt sheepish, but that's not a bad price to pay to learn at the feet of one of the best.

William Blake

I read a poem today by William Blake, The Fly, after listening to a new artist put it to music—in an Appalachia kind of way. It was a fun rendering. There is something simple and cathartic [adj.: of, relating to, or producing catharsis (noun: a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension)] in it. Here is the poem for you:

  

The Fly 

Little fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death,

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die. 

But as I'm sitting here thinking about what honestly made me the happiest today, it wasn't that, although that was a simple pleasure. I didn't want to share what actually made me happiest for vulnerability reasons, but here it is: I think I have a shot at the Georgetown English program. I actually think I could get in—a thing I never had supposed. Wish me luck.

So Domestic

Sunday. What did I make on this table? The kale chips. The green crunchy things in the white bowl. Toss the kale pieces in olive oil and salt them. Bake on a cookie sheet for twenty minutes, and voila! Everyone at the dinner loved them—at least seven people. Domestic success! I only see positives from here.

Why do I love kale? It's so good for you! On the Whole Foods aggregate nutrient density index (ANDI), it's 1000 out of 1000. Impressive little verdure (noun: the greenness of growing vegetation; also : such vegetation itself).   

50 Percent Off

For Friday:

I walked past my local running store today and saw signs of sale. In need of new shorts, and being the parsimonious (adj.: exhibiting or marked by parsimony; especially : frugal to the point of stinginess) person that I am, I turned in. I searched for treasures on the racks of relative reward, and, indeed, I found yoga shorts for 50 percent off. Unexpected success!

Conjugal Bliss

Dancing with a sassy, circa sixty-year-old Addis Ababaian (made that one up) at a connubial (adj.: of or relating to the married state) celebration. You cannot help but feel a lighthearted joy while dancing with this cute, little Ethiopian woman. She was laughing merrily while we moved to the popular, upbeat music. And I've decided that out of all the cultures I know, Ethiopians have the best laugh—sincere, hearty, happy, and infectious.

What came in second place? Being grabbed by the hand by my entertaining, gay co-worker to bust another move on the floor. No threat, pure fun, easy to let loose. LOVED it!

Finally coming to a conclusion after she pledging her troth a year ago, my boss is married. What a day!

Heavily Recruit-ed

Thursday's little piece of happiness:

Andrea: "Ginette, we have an opening in our house. You should move to Boston. How many reasons would it take?"

Ginette: "One hundred and one. And I would need them to come in multiple media formats: Facebook, text, e-mail, carrier pigeon, flare, Morse code on sky strobe light . . . "

Andrea: "Okay, I'm on it: 1) my Bam It salad dressing . . ."

She is ever perspicacious (adj.: of acute mental vision or discernment).

_______________________________________________

E-mail in my inbox at 11:47 a.m.:

101 reasons why you should move in with us (don't judge me on starting this sentence with a number)

1. My Bam It salad seasoning
2. Cheap rent
3. Being close to your fam, causing cockle workouts
4. YouTube video parties
5. Brittany hunts
6. Brittany makes applesauce
7. Brittany, Dara, and Steph are awesome long-distance runners. I cheer well. :)
8. You'd get to ride in my sweet Toyota (150,000 and still kickin'!)
9. Boston's schools are slightly above average
10. Dara is the nicest person in the world
11. Stephanie has hot pants and a sweet movie collection
12. We would support you in wearing a sleeping bag around town for 4 months—you wouldn't even know it's winter
13. We live next to a river and near a lake that I swam in a month ago and am still alive
14. We're becoming friends with our neighbors who own a canoe and would let us borrow . . .
15. Dara cooks great veggies, Steph bakes, and Brittany grills. I cheer. It's delicious.

______________________________________________

Text my phone at 5:35 p.m.:

So much to look forward to.

Calm

This is for Wednesday: I've spent some time talking to a friend recently who lost her mom three months ago. I don't like juxtaposing (transitive verb: : to place side by side) my happiness against a friend's pain to realize my good fortune. I think a proactive awareness of happiness is better than a passive comparison that leads to the same. But I couldn't help noticing how I came to this realization. I've had a taste of her hurt--a small one. The pain is constant and deep at first. Then it turns into rolling waves [emotional cramps :)]. Then it dissipates.

I thought to myself, "My soul is at peace right now, and I love my life. My heart and mind are calm. I am so, so grateful." It's amazing how happy (or relieved--I can't pinpoint it) that made me.

Gargoyles

Oh, yes. My favorite thing about today was learning there is a Darth Vader gargoyle on the National Cathedral. Such an aberrant (adj.: deviating from the usual or natural type : atypical) gargoyle. Bring binocs if you want to actually see it, though. It's tough to see with the naked eye.

Turducken . . .

Happy turducken day! Yes, it was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I came home to a fire ablaze in the fireplace, a turkey on the stove top, and four girls actively preparing a feast. I came home to a holiday I knew we were going to have and yet somehow didn't expect. With seventeen people around a very long table, we toasted our nonalcoholic drinks and drank in the holiday. Megan's ardent (adj.: characterized by warmth of feeling typically expressed in eager zealous support or activity) love of Canada—her homeland—in full display. A lovely evening not capable of being topped by anything else.

A Fireplace and Apricot Juice—Just an Excuse

Conference can never be beat. So let's go with second best. Three great conversations since we're so loquacious (adj.: full of excessive talk : wordy): fireplace chat last night with Katlyn and Rach over cheese, crackers, and apricot juice; toenail painting party with Tara and Cam in the morning; and basement chat with Julia before going to bed. There's nothing like a good conversation.

The Stocks

The stocks. During the early days of America, if a man kissed his wife on Sunday and he was caught, he served time in the stocks. Reverse jail body for him, undoubtedly. I am certainly not guilty of that crime since I am not a man and I don't live in the early days of America, but it was fun to imagine what stocks would have been like back in the day.

The ride. It is unequivocal (adj.: leaving no doubt : clear, unambiguous) that squirrels have an agenda. Whether they are on Capitol hill, in your backyard, or in the middle of rural Virginia, they have plans. As we were cruising under a beautiful canopy of trees that covered the Prince William Forest Park road, Russell observed that we were being ambushed by acorn-pelting squirrels from the trees above. Thankfully, we made it out safely without casualties.

A Bedouin wife. In Jerusalem, Andrea told me I would make a fantastic Bedouin wife. I think it's true. But how to make this happen . . . Amazingly enough, I learned from Andrea today, who learned from NPR, who learned from a girl who signed up for a vacation where she was kidnapped by Bedouins, that I, too, can sign up to be kidnapped by Bedouins. My next vacation is a Bedouin vacation—for sure.

But what made me the happiest today? Conference. Oh, yes.

Warmth of a Fire

There is very little in my life that can beat sitting next to a warm fire and having eclectic (adj.: composed of elements drawn from various sources) conversation. That's what I loved about today, along with meeting new people, connecting on deeper levels, and enjoying the night sky.

H Street

Dinner, dessert, and a great conversation on H street, with this lovely view on the side. A seriocomic (adj.: : having a mixture of the serious and the comic) night.

"I Object."

There is one incredible story that made me laugh today. On first dates, my friend asks the following: "what's the worst thing you've ever done and not felt bad about it?" As I mulled over this question internally, I couldn't think of how I would respond if I were so uncomfortably subjected to this question. (I'm sure there's something, but no need to dig too deeply here.) Of course I turned the question on him, and lo and behold (interjection: used to express wonder or surprise), what an unexpected treasure!

A wedding objection: he stood up in the church, raised his arm showing he had something to say (since they skipped right over the part where they ask if there were any objections), and said, "Excuse me. I object." It wasn't because he was in love with the girl. (Too bad, right?) No, indeed. It was practical. Here was this twenty-four year old girl marrying a fifty plus year old man. Not for money, not for looks, and not for a good match. (This is what my friend says.) He just wanted to be sure she was sure at the very last moment. Everyone had tried to talk her out of it.

So he prepared. He watched all the romcoms he could find, bought a bangin' new suit (a man needs to look good at a major life experience like this), and prepped for the day. He quoted us his speech—with the caveat that it could have been much better executed (after hearing it, I'd have to agree). He gave four very practical reasons why they shouldn't wed and was then asked to sit down. He said it wasn't a pleasant experience. I can imagine . . .

Moral of the story: be careful who you invite to your wedding.

Over a Bowl of Breakfast

Not even selling my scuba gear today compares to laughing with Andrea. While I was sitting down getting ready to eat my highly desired breakfast—one that I crave daily—Andrea called me to chit the chat. We went deep, resurfaced, swam a couple lengths of the verbal pool, and laughed. Why is everything she says so funny? I think it's because her comedic reputation adds weight to her hilarity (noun: boisterous merriment or laughter).

[My ever coveted breakfast. (There is in fact granola under there.) The only thing it lacked was peanut butter . . .]

Mists

There's way too much to love about today: the elderly Maltese couple I chatted with about moving back to their homeland, the super cute Chinese couple that just moved to the US, the missionaries that walked by my front door. This is turning into a tough exercise.

My bike ride was amazing. It was a misty morning, and dew was evaporating from the grass and canal. The air was cold but refreshing, and I was able to think as I rode. As I past Fletcher's Cove, I heard what always sounds like a waterfall, and I saw hovering mists shifting in a small breeze. Initially, the mists reminded me of a Sherlock Holmes short story, The Hound of the Baskervilles. The fog on the moors were so well described in the story (or my imagination was so vibrant as a child) that my mind went straight to the painted picture the book left on my mind. It was beautiful.

Knowing A Need

I know a girl who needs friends and love. She invited us to dinner—she's made other invitations before that I haven't been able to accept—and initially I didn't know if I would be able to take her up on this one. I had been fed brunch, lunch, and dinner. This was second dinner. I was a stuffed pepo [noun: an indehiscent fleshy one-celled many-seeded berry (as a pumpkin, squash, melon, or cucumber) that has a hard rind and is the characteristic fruit of the gourd family]. More specifically a pumpkin. When we showed up, I knew it made a difference, and that's why I love today.

Simple Conversation

I loved yesterday.

While I loved that my home teacher offered to drive me to Giant to get my groceries, and I loved talking to lots of people at Feed the Need, and I loved getting phone calls from good friends, and I loved going to Opera in the Outfield, those experiences aren't what made me the happiest. I loved yesterday the most for this:

Me: "You know Justin?!" (Interrobang: noun: a punctuation mark ‽ designed for use especially at the end of an exclamatory rhetorical question.)

New Friend: "Yeah, I know Justin. He was the guy that they always used as an example. It sounds like he wasn't the most talented player on our team, but, man, he worked hard. They would say, 'you should all try to work as hard as Justin.' And 'remember how hard Justin worked.' Apparently he was incredible."

Is it funny that my heart swelled with pride? Justin is beautiful to me, and other people saw part of his beauty too. He taught me more about loving other people than anyone else in my life ever has. To hear that others recognized an aspect of his beauty tasted better to me than any inspiring piece of artwork ever could have.

The Simple Things

I love today.

One of our residents dropped off these treats for me from Japan. Can I tell you how much I love cultural things? I especially loved the mochi. Happiness in the form of glutinous rice [noun: the seeds of a short-grained cultivated rice (Oryza sativa glutinosa) that are plump and sticky when cooked].