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Showing posts from November, 2012

No Me Marcho

"Que Marchas?" My Spanish host mother used to ask me. I loved this verb, Marchar. It was probably my favorite Spanish verb that I learned in Spain, after Comer, to eat. They are both verbs that I learned by living them. Often they would go hand in hand: "Me marcho a la tienda por mas galletas y helado a comer." ( I am heading out to the store for more cookies and ice cream to eat ). Six years later, I think I finally burned off that last scoop of lemon gelato at the gym last week. More importantly, six years later, I feel like certain parts of me, the right parts of me, have let go of Marchar. It's hard to describe colloquially how marchar is different from walking or leaving. It's sort of like, walking with purpose, or walking as a function. In my heart, it sort of implies a certain mindset, to be constantly on the move, lest anything become stale or purposeless. The Spanish surely don't approve of this interpretation, but this is 'Merica, and...

How To: Nashville in 48 Hours

I present to you a smattering of photographs intended to guide you through 48 hours in Nashville, about 16 of which was spent in a conference, 10 spent sleeping, and maybe 2 hours collectively in my hotel lounging/getting ready/packing or unpacking/bathing. First, you must get in a plane and leave behind these: and this: In exchange for this. Oh Tennessee: Then, you must go to the Marriott Vanderbilt, ask for a Northwest facing room. Check into said room, and open your curtains to reveal this: Take a shuttle to Music Row, find the tourist nature of it a little bit overwhelming and depressing, and walk to the waterfront, where you will see this: (and feel instantly better) Then, realize that you passed the Ryman Auditorium without knowing it, and go back and get a picture: or two: Succumb to the touristy nature of Music Row and snag a stool for a modestly good country cover band at The Stage: Cruise around to a few other venues includ...

Voting

I'm standing in an unbelievable line in Lehi, Utah to vote for president. My polling place is an elementary school, and I was standing next to a 3rd grade classroom as they recited the pledge of allegiance. Damn if their sweet little voices didn't make me teary as I stood here taking stake in their little futures. How lucky are we? How cool is this? Oh it's riddled with problems, and I still deeply regard democracy as a great experiment still finding its legs. I think we've lost enormous rights as a people, not to government, but to giant conglomerate companies, investors, media outlets. But daily we are playing ideas out against each other, with each other, for each other. I'm a lone little liberal in a sea of conservatism, and I love these people. I love that they are here. I love that they are excited to vote for a Mormon president. I love that we can all just do this and leave crazy comments on ksl and then grocery shop together. I worked for the Civil W...