When I Said My Dad Was Crazy

I meant it.

Recent text from him: I am training soooo hard for Badwater! 5 layers, 16 pounds of clothes, 4 hours of running with elevation on treadmill, 2 full hats with mouth coverage and winter gloves. Oh yeah...and a space heater on high heat blowing in my face. Followed with 30 minutes in the sauna.

I've run a 50, and I've always said I'm going to do 100s with my pops someday. I'd consider myself a fellow ultrarunner at heart, and I probably "get" my dad more than most people. This? This is just beyond me. I have no desire to ever, EVER do this race. I'll see you at Hardrock in a few years, Dad. But Badwater?

When I start thinking you're crazy, you know you've crossed the rubicon.

The Phone Call

It was an older man on the other end of the line. Some organization must have been conducting a phone campaign working against HR 1246, because every five minutes I was getting calls from constituents voicing their opposition to it.

Even though it was apparent that this wasn't another "Vote no on HR 1246" call, I tuned him out. Many of the elderly people who call the office are conspiracy theorists who just need someone to rant to for a minute. As soon as I hear a geriatric voice on the other end of the line, I tend to lapse into not-really-listening-but-I'll-validate-you-with-an-mmm hmm-here-and-there mode.

But this man wasn't blabbering on about how Obama's birth certificate is a forgery, or how Sharia law is taking over the world and BY GOLLY WE GOTTA GET ALL THOSE MUSLIMS OUTTA HERE. He was talking about how the US could easily foil cybersecurity threats from China.

"It's quite simple, really. We gotta teach them boys in the military the basics again. Like how to use dead reckoning. Nobody knows how anymore. Did you know China shot down one of its own GPS satellites just to prove it could? But if our guys don't need GPS to tell them where they are, who cares? They could shoot down all our GPS satellites! That's how you can deal with cybersecurity, too. Go back to the basics so that we can survive no matter what China does."

I didn't really have the heart to tell him that the US has sort of crossed the technological rubicon, but he made a good point. I asked him a little about himself and how he knew about dead reckoning.

"Oh, we used it all the time in the Marines."

"Really? Thanks for your service! Where did you serve?"

He told me about his infantry division and used a whole lot of other military jargon that was lost on me. All I could really muster as a response was "Wow! That's amazing. My grandpa was a Marine, too. He served in the Pacific theater during Korea."

"You don't say! I had a lot of buddies in that war." He told me their first and last names, division numbers, and where they served. Then he paused. " . . . But a lot of them have passed away."

"Well, sir," I continued, awkwardly, "y'know, I'm glad they're up in heaven now. Being rewarded for their service. Finally getting what they earned."

The other line of the phone fell silent for a moment. I heard a sniffle.

"Oh, I gotta hang up now," he said, his voice quivering, "you're gonna make me cry."

Luckily, he didn't hang up. I provided some segue back into dead reckoning and talked to him for just a bit longer. But to hear this old man literally break down at the thought of his Marine friends meeting their Maker was so powerful. It made his sacrifice real to me.

***

Dead reckoning is "the process of estimating one's current position based upon a previously determined position." After every conversation I have with a veteran, I feel like I have a better sense of who I am because I know where others have been to get me here.

Our nation honors her sons and daughters who answered the call 

to defend a country they never knew

and a people they never met.

Another Installment Of...

ZOOM ZOOM RECAP ZOOM ZOOM

Monday: The House was out of session this week (meaning: all the congressmen go home to do work in their districts), so it was definitely a slower week at the office. Bonus: When Congress isn't in session, we can wear street clothes to work! Niiiiice.

Tuesday: Went down to Crystal City again after work to play volleyball at the sand courts. It's an awesome group of people that we get together with, and we all play until we're so tired and sucky that it just isn't fun anymore. Which usually takes about twenty minutes. Just kidding. Twenty-five.

Wednesday: Normal day. Perhaps you don't know what a "normal day" entails for me . . .

• Wake up at 7:10
• Hit snooze till 7:50
• "Holy schnikes!"
• Skip showering
• Scramble to catch the metro by 8:10
• Arrive at work by 8:45
• Sort mail
• Read emails/news
• Answer phone calls
• Maybe do a Capitol tour if it's my assigned day
• Lunch
• Miscellaneous projects delegated by office staffers
• Inevitably deliver at least one document to Tom in the Rayburn building :)
• Organize constituent mail on Intranet Quorum
• Write letters
• Leave at 5pm if House isn't in session, 6pm if it is
• Home at 6:30
• Eat dinner
• Go on a walk/run/bike ride with Brock
• Watch two--OKAY, OKAY, four--episodes of "30 Rock" on Netflix

Thursday: Brock and I took advantage of our membership to Capital Bikeshare and biked down to the Lincoln Memorial after dark. Moseyed around the Vietnam and Korean Memorials again too, just for kicks. I ran my fingers along the names engraved on the Vietnam Memorial for the entire length of the V. It took me a good four minutes or so to walk from one end to the other. Feeling the names of thousands of dead literally brush under my fingers had a powerful effect on me. I am so grateful for our armed forces.

Friday: Woke up bright at early to hop on a bus to Valley Forge with all the rest of the Washington Seminar crew, minus Brock (he had a conference to go to for his internship on Friday, so he had to miss the trip). We stayed at an on-site hotel at Valley Forge--except it was more of a dorm than a hotel. A really creepy dorm that reminded me of that place in "The Shining."

For lunch, we were served cheese-less Philly cheesesteaks (don't ask) and had pudding for dessert. I skipped the mystery meat and just puddinged it up. Then we headed out on our tour of the grounds with our baller tour guide--an elderly man from Alabama named Murray. He had taught US history in high school for like thirty years and was so passionate about the Revolutionary War! I loved it. For photos, check out my Facebook album.

We came back and ate dinner (tacos! much better) and had a visit with Abigail Adams (as in, John's wife). No, silly. Not the real Abigail Adams. She's dead. This was just a lady who dressed up and pretended to be Abigail Adams. She was slated to talk about her life for an hour, but went on for over 90 minutes! I can't speak for my other Washington Seminar compadres, but I was Abigailed out way before then. Apparently, I wasn't the only one. My friend David was whispering and cracking jokes with some of his friends during her presentation, and she totally called him out on it and basically told him to shut up.

Actually, now that I think of it, that was the best part of the whole thing.

There was an ice cream social afterward, and a bunch of us got together and played Mafia. You know, that group game that you play with cards? It was way fun. Then I went to my creepy room--ALONE--and tried to fall asleep. But I was worried about the world ending the next day (THANKS FOR NOTHING, HAROLD CAMPING) and I also thought I was going to see a ghost because I swear the place we were staying at was haunted. My only company was a little stink bug who chilled out in my sink. I rinsed him down the drain so I could wash my face without having to stare at his little nasty body. But I'll be darned if that little sucker didn't climb back up the pipe and was sitting in his exact same spot the next morning.

I respect that, little bug. I respect that.

Saturday: Philadelphia. Started the day out at the National Constitution Center, and then saw the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and Liberty Bell. Set off with the married couples down to South Street for some real Philly cheesesteaks at Jim's, and then made our way to Betsy Ross' house, Benjamin Franklin's grave, and a cute little ice cream parlor. Met up with the rest of the group for a tour of Independence Hall, and then grabbed dinner at a pizza place on Passyunk Avenue--which is probably the funniest-sounding street name ever.

Sunday: Officially survived the rapture! YAAAAAY. Brother Harding picked us up in the morning to head to stake conference, which was actually really good! Then we went to his house for a big Sunday dinner. He cooked it all himself and it was delectable. Penne pasta with chicken, spinach salad with a homemade vinaigrette, warm rolls, lemonade (with mint in the pitcher to make it look fancy!), steamed asparagus, and the option of either homemade mixed berry pie or cheesecake for dessert. JEALOUS?!?!?!!?!?

Also: Randomly found out that Brother Harding's son was my PLSC 328 TA about a year ago! His son walked through the front door and I was like "Hey. I know you."

ALSO: He served in the same mission as my brother.

Crazy.

***

I can't believe I've already been here for almost a month. Time is flying by and I still have so much to do and see! I may just have to move here. For real. I love being two hours from Philly, four from New York, and near beautiful countryside at the same time. Plus, DC is just a gorgeous, clean city with so much opportunity. I love it as much as I love Chicago, which is saying a lot.

Although I'm really missing my mountains.

Like, bad.

Actually, scratch everything I just said up there. I could never live in a place without mountains.

Georgetown Run

My new running shoes embarked on their maiden voyage today.

Running is the best way to really get to know a city. To find all the little small streets, old stores, and wooded trails that take you away from the bustle and into the core.

We ran up into Georgetown, down to the waterfront, and along the Potomac through Chesapeake and Ohio National Park. We crossed under what Brock has appropriately deemed "the world's scariest tunnel" and onto a small trail that jutted off perpendicularly from a busy street into thick woods. Tall trees formed a dense canopy above us, and the flick of Brock's shoe in front of me kicked up flecks of mud onto my calves. If it weren't for the roar of airplanes flying low overhead into Reagan National Airport, I would've forgotten where I was.

The woods gave way to a vast, open meadow. A few minutes later, we crested a hill onto Reservoir Road, leading us up a steady slope onto Georgetown's campus. Past the medical center, past the dental school, past the French embassy, and finally down to Wisconsin Avenue.

Wisconsin is a gradual downhill road. The final mile home. My body succumbed to gravity as I sunk into my hips and ran without thinking. That's the best type of running. When your brain doesn't even register the movement of your legs and they just pump pump pump like Quixote's windmills.

Instead, all my mental efforts were exerted in one primal concentration: Keeping my body in motion. I focused my eyes on any approaching obstacles, and stepped gingerly, quickly around them to avoid breaking my stride.

I'm a very quiet runner. My steps are light, and once I settle into a rhythm, my breathing is barely audible. No matter how many "On your left"s I say to people ahead of me, my stealthy movements always manage to surprise/terrify at least one person as I pass them. Whoosh, shriek, jump, "I'm so sorry!", "No worries!", repeat.

But I like this--it makes me feel like I'm running how I should. How my ancestors did, when they had to move quickly and quietly through the woods to kill that night's dinner. Except I'm not dodging trees, bushes, rocks, or rivers. I'm zigzagging through 20-somethings whose arms are full of Zara and Aldo bags, cutting around people stepping into limos and taxis, and winding my way around street lamps, stop signs, and garbage cans.

And now, here I am. Home. But not just home in the sense that I'm sitting in this little 20X20 apartment that Brock and I share for the summer. Home in the sense that, for the first time in a long time, I feel connected to something. Maybe with my body; maybe with nature; maybe with the savage, raw person inside me who just wants to run on the land until she reaches the end of it.

I don't know what it is. But I know I unleash it when I knot up those laces.

One of the Good Ones

Co-worker: "Hey, who got flowers?"

Me: "I did."

"From your husband?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Any particular reason? Or did you just snag one of the good ones?"

"One of the good ones."

Annoyingly Long Blog Post

SORRY.

I totally meant to finish this last week, but forgot. Forgiveness, people.

ZOOM ZOOM RECAP ZOOM ZOOM

Sunday: Mother's Day! We had an awesome church meeting where a bunch of mothers in the ward got up and spoke about their experiences raising families. There was a baptism and a Munch and Mingle after church ended, and we got caught up talking to an Afghan man in our ward. He speaks like eight languages, one of which is Arabic. I chatted to him briefly, and he said my Arabic sounds good because it comes from deep in the throat (high praise for any student of the language!).

Monday: All the interns from Utah were invited by Senator Hatch's office to attend a briefing given by Justice Scalia. Yes, the Justice Scalia. You have no idea how excited I was for this, and I was not disappointed. I love him even more now than I did before.

I sat this close to him!!!

Me standing under a bust of Oliver Ellsworth: drafter of the Constitution, key figure in fomenting the Great Compromise, third Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and my ANCESTOR!

After Scalia's words, we were given a tour of the Supreme Court chamber, which was stunning.Did you know there's actually a basketball court above that room? It's literally "the highest court in the land." (Nerdy political science joke...) Also, the justices don't really play much.

They just sit on the bench.

Tuesday: Normal day.

Wednesday: My co-worker, John, invited Brock and I to play some volleyball in Crystal City after work. There's some sand pits not too far away from the metro stop there, and he'd helped coordinate a group of about ten people to get together and play. It was way fun! We played until it was too dark outside to see the ball.

Also: Brock got an internship ! And not just any internship. An internship with one of the most prestigious law firms in the DC! . . . Which happens to be located ONE BLOCK from where we live.

When we got home from volleyball, Brock received an email from one of the lawyers at this firm asking him to come in for an interview--at 10pm! (The lawyer had been on a conference call with someone in Afghanistan, so it was a late night for him in the office.) He told Brock not to worry about dressing up or even showering, so Brock just threw on some jeans and ran over. They chatted for almost two hours, and Brock came home ecstatic. There are so many great, substantive projects for him to work on.

The best part? This firm has offices in the Middle East. Meaning: There's a possibility that Brock could work in either Doha (Qatar) or Abu Dhabi (UAE) while I'm studying in Amman. But that's getting way ahead of ourselves. We'll see how everything goes . . .

Bottom line: The Lord is truly looking out for us.

Thursday: Brock had another internship interview today at Brookings. And whaddaya know! He snagged that one, too. He'll be working in Brookings' communications department, and will be able to split his time 50/50 between both internships. That kid is ridiculous.

Thursday evening we went to a networking event put on by the BYU Political Affairs Society. The keynote speaker was Congressman Jeff Flake of Arizona. He told a lot of funny anecdotes and seemed like a really nice man (he's well-known in Congress for his staunch opposition to earmarks).

Our friend Alex was in town for the networking event, so we went out to dinner with him at Good Stuff Eatery. Soooo good. Their toasted marshmallow shake is a gift from the gods.

Friday: Started the morning out with a lecture at the Capitol Visitor's Center from Senator Reid. I really wanted to like him--but I left that lecture extremely disappointed. I really feel as though years of petty politics have gotten the best of him, which is sad. (Congressional term limits are so needed...)

After Senator Reid's remarks, we got together with a group organized by BYUPAS and headed to the National Defense University to listen to another speaker. The families of top military generals have nice houses right on base at the NDU, and it was cool to literally drive by a line of houses belonging to the most respected men in the country.

The best part of the day was our visit to the National Reconnaissance Office--the intelligence organization responsible for US spy satellites. We even got to talk to Bruce Carlson for 30 minutes--the director of the NRO! Talk about beyond cool. For this guy to take thirty minutes out of his day to come talk to anybody--let alone a group of liberal arts majors who have literallynothing to offer his organization--was just incredible. (In case you didn't know, he's also in the Second Quorum of the Seventy, as if he wasn't enough of a baller already...)

Everybody who works at the NRO has a top-secret security clearance, so we had to wear these bright red badges on our chest so people knew not to talk about sensitive information when we were around. We learned a ton about all the different types of orbits and the various spy satellites that operate in each. The declassified satellite photos shown to us were insanely detailed--and those were the dumbed-down versions of originals! To think that these photos were taken from 18,000 miles away is just mind-boggling. No other country's space reconnaissance program even comes close to ours.

America is the freaking SHIZ.

Saturday: Brock and I headed into Georgetown on a mission: to buy him a couple of new suits. We got some good deals on a nice tan one and another that's a light navy blue (sort of retro-looking, I love it). People, my husband can fill out a suit like it's nobody's bidness. Seriously. We dropped them off for tailoring at Ms. Lee's (a hilarious Vietnamese seamstress who owned a shop right across the street), and then headed off to the Capitol, where I led a tour for a group of really nice guys who were in DC on business. It was only the second tour I've given, so I made a few mistakes--including saying that the Statue of Freedom on top of the Capitol weighs 9 million pounds. Yeah, that statistic definitely raised a few eyebrows. In reality, it weighs only a little less (15,000 lbs...hehe). To my credit, the entire dome itself weights 9 million tons, so it was just a little numbers mix-up! I knew 9 million somethings was a statistic somewhere. Luckily, the group was understanding and we all had some good laughs!

After the tour, we met up with Alex again and headed for the Museum of American History. We saw the huge American flag that the Star-Spangled Banner was written about! In the War of 1812, Britain launched an aggressive attack on Baltimore harbor. This flag (and the city) survived the attack, and an amateur poet named Francis Scott Key was so stirred by the sight of it flying that he wrote our nation's anthem.

The other exhibit we saw was called "The Price of Freedom"--which basically takes you on a journey throughout all the wars America has fought. I'm one of those annoying museum people who likes to read every placard--after an hour, I hadn't even gotten to the Civil War! Brock and I will definitely be heading back to that museum to finish that exhibit and go to others.

Sunday: After Church ended, a bunch of us couples living at the Barlow Center were invited to a ward member's apartment for waffles! We had such a great time visiting and getting to know each other better.

. . . If you're still reading, that probably classifies you as my grandma. Hi, grandma.

A Sudden Realization

Ladies, do you remember when you came to grips with the fact that your boobs were done growing?

After more than a decade of hopeful anticipation, I just reached that point.

I was thinking to myself, Hey. I'm almost 23. And my next thought was: Dang, I'm pretty sure that dashes any hope of late-puberty growth spurts.

***

Doesn't mean I still won't cross my fingers for good luck though. You neeeever know.

Week In Review

My first week as an intern has been an enjoyable one! There are two other interns working in the office--Travis and Eric. They both attend UVU and we all get along great. The other full-time staff members have been welcoming, helpful, and fun to work with. I was introduced the Congressman on my first day, and he even sat down with me personally to say welcome, ask me what my expectations were, etc. Overall, it seems like one of the best House offices to work in. There's a great office dynamic, interns are taken seriously, and everybody strives to make visitors feel welcome and important as soon as they walk through the door--be it the Speaker of the House or a page. I think the best part of my job will be giving tours of the Capitol. I gave my first one yesterday to a group of about 15 people from Snow College and it went well!

It almost feels surreal to work in the Longworth building (there are House offices in three buildings on the Hill: Longworth, Cannon, and Rayburn). The Hill is just beautiful and it's amazing to work in a place with so much history. That being said, it's easy to see how the Hill gives people such egos. I think it's partly because of that history, and because there's not many work places that require you to go through a metal detector before entering. Also, the underground tunnels connecting the three House office buildings make people feel way more important than they are. Oh, me? Yeah, I get to walk around in secret passageways. You know, like President Obama. Only they're not really secret. And you're not President Obama.

And now it's time for . . .

ZOOM ZOOM RECAP ZOOM ZOOM

Monday: Washington Seminar orientation. Took the metro to the Capitol, and found my way to Chaffetz' office so I knew where to go the next day. Walked back along the Mall with Brock to the White House. Hit up Johnny Rocket's in Georgetown for some late-night shakes with David and Noah, where we chatted it up with our Pakistani waiter.

Tuesday: First day of work! Met up with Brock to have lunch at the cafeteria in the basement of the Longworth after he listened in on a Senate hearing about U.S. relations with Afghanistan and Pakistan (where he witnessed John Kerry's miraculous ability to completely doze off, wake up, and spout out substantive, rapid-fire questions to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee as if he'd been paying attention the whole time). Brock made me pancakes for dinner :)

Wednesday: Followed Travis as he gave a Capitol tour to the husband and daughter of Utah's Teacher of the Year. The husband own and operates a swank rehab facility at Sundance--the one that's treated Lindsay Lohan a couple times. He was actually really funny and it was great to tour with them! Brock made chicken noodle soup for dinner and we headed off to visit the Lincoln Memorial later that night.

Thursday: Had my first conversation with an older constituent who calls into the office almost every day. She was so funny. She tried telling me a joke about a Norwegian and a bacon tree (???) but completely forgot the punchline at the end . . . it ended up being way funnier than if she'd actually remembered! Tagged along with a very-stylin' Eric (in a seersucker suit) as he gave a tour of the Capitol, and then gave my first one to another group immediately thereafter. Saw John Boehner and Eric Cantor walk into Boehner's office right outside the rotunda. Believe it or not, but Boehner is oranger in real life than on TV. Brock made chicken parmesan for dinner (is he a gem or what?!) and we watched Salt on Netflix that night.

Friday: Had a lecture in the morning for Washington Seminar, and visited Judge Griffith (of the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals!) in the afternoon. With the hours in between, Brock and I visited the beautiful Vietnam Memorial, Korean Memorial, and WWII Memorial. Grabbed some Potbelly for dinner and stayed at home watching "30 Rock" reruns. Partyin', partyin', YEAH.

Today: Went on a tour of the Capitol! You'd think this is the last thing I'd want to do on my day off, but Brock hadn't been on one and I wanted to hear what the "real" tour guides said on their tours. Grabbed a quick hotdog at a sidewalk vendor afterward, and the vendor turned out to be Egyptian! I would love an Egyptian to practice my Arabic with, so I'll have to frequent his cart at lunchtime during the week. On a side note, can I just say that every Egyptian I've met thus far in DC has been so friendly?? It's awesome. I hope Jordanians are the same!

Tonight, we're planning on getting some Baked and Wired cupcakes after dinner--which, according to locals, are supposed to be so much better than Georgetown Cupcakes or Sprinkles.

For the sake of analysis, I'll may or may not have to try all three.

I do it for you, guys. I do it for you.

Rot In Hell

"I suppose I should be expressing some ambivalence about the targeted killing of another human being. And yet - uhhhh, no!" - Jon Stewart

"Bin Laden was not a Muslim leader; he was a mass murderer of Muslims. Indeed, Al-Qaeda has slaughtered scores of Muslims in many countries, including our own. So his demise should be welcomed by all who believe in peace and human dignity." -- President Obama

Photo Source

I've been thinking a lot about this man's death, and whether its okay to celebrate it. Some have even gone so far to say that doing so is "a violation of human dignity."

Really?

There truly are some people who the human race is better without. From a Christian standpoint, that's not to say they're not worth anything (D&C 18:10), but let's get real: Just because a person is worth something doesn't mean they're working toward the betterment of mankind. 

One of the important distinctions that I believe was overlooked by the press was that people weren't so much celebrating the death of OBL as they were celebrating what that death represented. The same could be said for terrorists who cheered with the Twin Towers fell. For them, it wasn't necessarily the deaths of innocent thousands that made them happy, but the triumph of their disgustingly perverted interpretation of "Islam" that 9/11 represented.

For those who cheered at Ground Zero and at the White House, it wasn't necessarily the death of Bin Laden that was cause for joy, but the symbolic achievement wrought by nearly a decade's worth of sacrifice from courageous American soldiers.

On both 9/11 and 5/1, cheers erupted for a cause  that was advanced, rather than for deaths that were incurred along the way. The difference being that those who died on 9/11 were innocent. 

So you know what? Now that I think of it: Yeah. I am a little happy that Bin Laden is dead. I guess I do celebrate the death of some  people. And if you think that's sick and twisted or not very Christian of me or a violation of human dignity or not something that Martin Luther King Jr. would approve of (by the way, that quote wasn't real) then so be it. If you think it's stupid of me to express those sentiments publicly because it will only galvanize terrorists, guess what? We killed Osama bin Laden. Those sons of bitches are going to be galvanized no matter how we react.

The world is better off because Osama bin Laden is dead.

You live in this world. So be happy about it.

First Days in D.C.

We are alive and well here in the city! Getting here was an adventure in and of itself. We flew over on Southwest and sat down next to the cutest, funnest lady named Pam who I chatted with the entire time. Brock made friends with the flight attendant (Michelle) serving us, and the whole plane ride seriously became a party. Michelle serenaded everyone at the end, made Brock a crown of small peanut bags and drink stirrers, gave him clip-on Southwest pilot's wings for his shirt, a coloring book, and loving reminded him to wash his hands while he was in the bathroom. Over the intercom.

After arriving in Dulles and getting on the SuperShuttle, we hit some major traffic coming into D.C. But we found our way to the Barlow Center easy enough, and grabbed some Papa Johns that night to fill our ravenous bellies. While waiting for our pizza, we took a little stroll up into Georgetown to check out our surroundings. We literally walk over a bridge into the heart of Georgetown: dozens of restaurants, Banana Republic, H&M, Sprinkles Cupcakes, Anthropologie, J. Crew, American Apparel, Steven Madden, Betsey Johnson, Urban Outfitters, the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal (great running trail!), Barnes & Noble, Dean and Deluca, Trader Joe's and so much more.

Yeah, it's gonna be a good summer.

On Saturday we woke up late (our bodies are still adjusting to Eastern time . . .) and headed out for brunch at a cute little French cafe in Georgetown called La Madeleine. Brock made fun of me for ordering what was literally called "the American breakfast", but it was freaking good. And hey, it came with a croissant! French enough for me.

After brunch we explored Georgetown a little more and made a grocery run to Trader Joe's. Then it was off to Ben's Chili Bowl to meet our friends Tiffany and Ryan. The half-smokes at Ben's did not disappoint, and afterward we went to Tiffany and Ryan's apartment in Silver Spring to just sit around and chat. It was so great to see them again. Tiffany was such a trooper, too--she'd just gotten her wisdom teeth taken out the day before!

Today we went to our ward for the first time. It's the D.C. 3rd ward and we love it! It's very diverse--lots of people from Haiti and Cameroon, so a good portion of our ward is French-speaking. They have a Sunday School class taught in French and today the Sacrament prayers were said in French as well. The ward is just really friendly and has a ton of great traditions. Like whenever a brother or sister gets up to bear their testimony, they say "Good afternoon, brothers and sisters" and the entire congregation says "Good afternoon" back to them in unison. And whenever a ward member leaves or moves away, the entire congregation stands up and sings "God Be With You Till We Meet Again."

Random story: An older sister missionary serving in the ward, Verla Walters, taught my mom in Mia Maids and was my Grandma Kern's visiting teacher while they lived in Richland, Washington! Freaking crazy. The world is so small. Truly.

The thing I love about the ward is that many of them are converts who bring such a genuine, sincere, and pure understanding of the gospel along with them. They haven't grown up with the Church in their lives, so a lot of the social norms of Mormon culture are lost on them--which I love. Church is very interactive (a lot of Mmmmm hmmms and Aaaaamens coming from the congregation)--we even had an older woman get up and sing a gospel song as her testimony today! What's more, ALL the African-Americans in the ward sang along with her (us whiteys didn't know the song, but we'll learn!). To top the Sunday off, a couple young men got baptized right after church ended, which was awesome to see. The gospel of Jesus Christ is such a beautiful, wonderful, empowering thing.

Anyway, that's it for now! I'll post pictures of the Barlow Center later (including our awesome Murphy bed. Oh yes. We're sleeping on a Murphy bed for the next three months). Thanks for reading, and sorry for such a boring post! You may have to get used to them--this blog is essentially going to be my journal while we're in D.C., but I'll try to pepper it up with funny stuff, too :)