see mom?

arch nemesis

awhile back my friend sara convinced me that everyone has an arch nemesis, that certain someone who you always seem to find yourself in competition with, that person who just kind of ticks you off merely for being in your space... perhaps because that person may remind you a little too much of yourself.

i have two arch nemeses.

i'm not going to lie. i am very VERY competitive. so, trying to get into the nursing program was just an exercise of my very nature. but i was not the only one out for a little exercise. it seemed like a lot of students were exercising their inner-selves. it was a breeding ground of arch nemeses.

i have only had one class so far with my first arch nemesis. i don't even know her name, although i have this sneaking suspicion it's sara, which just knocks her arch nemesis stature up a notch. this girl does not even know who i am. i always sat behind her and i only talked to her once, briefly. the reason that she is my arch nemesis is because her face used to be plastered all over grand rapids. silly, i know. but there were probably 700 billboards around town displaying her pearly whites. i got very sick of that billboard. prior to getting into the program those obnoxious advertisements reminded me that i needed to get better grades than her. the kicker was that one of the billboards towered over my place of employment. every morning when i drove to work i had to pass her face.

most of the billboards have since been replaced. and i got into the program. so, my feelings towards arch nemesis #1 have changed (a little). i've heard that she made it into the program too. only time will tell if we will remain nemeses or become colleagues and friends. i think we'll be ok as long as no new billboards go up around town.

arch nemesis #2 has been in almost all of my classes. he is around 40 years old, blond, tan, handsome. he is wicked smart. and he can really get to me. he's the type who will nonchalantly wander over to you after a quiz or test and ask you how you did. or, after the grades have been returned, he will ask you what you got as if it is his right or business to know. there came a point last summer that i just started telling him i got an A, even if i didn't. i knew it freaked him out. strategy.

last night, #2 struck again. it was right before our pathophysiology quiz, if you can call six chapters covering the inner workings of cells, innate and adaptive immunity, inflammation, chemical balance, and hypersensitivities a "quiz." most people were studying their notes frantically, trying to shove that last piece of information about dendritic cells into their brains. i was tired. i had just come from my stats lab where i had been hunched in front of a computer for two hours. i decided that trying to cram was pointless so i decided to eat my peanut butter sandwich instead. i strategically placed myself across from the blond.

after a short while he gathered up his pages and pages of notes and approached me. "here it comes" i thought. "are you ready?" he asked. i said i guessed and took a big bite of my sandwich. he then proceeded to ask me the longest most complicated question i have ever heard. he included about six pages of notes into that one question. i couldn't decide if he was asking it to try and show me how much he knew or if he really was wondering what he was asking. i honestly had no idea what he was talking about so i decided that he was just showing off. when he was finished asking what sounded to me like, "blah, blah, blah, MHC receptors, blah de blah, chemokines the same as cytokines?" i just had to shake my head and say, "did you just ask me something? was that a question?" he tried to re-word for the sake of my simple mind. finally, i had to stop him and reduce him to pictures. i drew out what i understood MHC receptors to do. and as far as chemokines and cytokines being the same thing, who cares? just know what they do.

i thought my drawings were pretty amazing, but they were greeted with a "...but...but..." i told him that if our professor was going to get THAT picky on a 10 point quiz that covered six chapters, then we were all screwed. i took another bite of my sandwich as he started his next question. half way into his mumbo jumbo of patho lingo i had to interrupt him and ask him to go away as he was starting to confuse me. we were both laughing good-heartedly as he walked away, but i really meant it. he was starting to make me nervous. and that is why he is my arch nemesis.

luckily the quiz went down without a hitch. i wondered if my nemesis realized that he had studied way too hard as i wiped the sandwich crumbs off the front of my sweater.

at the end of the day the blond is probably a lot smarter than me. and he will probably be a great nurse, as will the girl on the billboards. i respect them both very much. but their roles as "arch nemeses" are pretty important. they keep me on my toes. they challenge me to do my best. they push me to study just one more hour on a saturday. in fact, i believe that it is because of them that i even got accepted into the nursing program!

from here on out we will work side by side. and i'm sure that they will continue to push me to do my best, even if they are unaware of it. and i hope that in some small way i will do the same for them.

you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. -sn

maybe it wasn't such a good idea

a woman recently died of water intoxication. you can read the story here. while drinking water is definitely good for you, limits are always good. hearing things like this makes me think that "H2Own It" week was not such a good idea.

brewer's yeast

my mom tried her darndest to keep her kids healthy. i didn't really realize this until the other day i found myself wandering a health food store searching for brewer's yeast, the flaky kind. i wanted it to sprinkle over my popcorn. when i told brett i was going to the store to buy yeast for our popcorn, his nose crinkled up. he had recently made his first homemade pizza crust and the yeast he had used for that did not smell all that great. he couldn't imagine putting it on popcorn. i couldn't really imagine it either, its just that i had this memory of yeast always being on my popcorn when i was little. and i remembered that it wasn't half bad! i reassured my worried husband that i wouldn't make him eat yeast if it was going to taste bad. i told him that my mom used to sprinkle it on our popcorn and we would gobble it up. he still looked worried.

turns out, brewer's yeast not only has a delicious "nut-like" flavor, but it is very nutritional. it's got all this good stuff in it that my body needs. i figured my mom was smarter than i had first thought so i wandered around the store looking for other things that looked familiar, things my mom would have bought. i came home with a sack of yeast, a sack of sunflower seeds, soymilk, and a sack of oatmeal, the kind you have to slowly cook on the stove. my friend shannon had to teach me how to cook it as i am used to the quaker variety that you stick in the microwave. thank you shannon.

now my popcorn tastes like the kind my mom used to make. comfort food. and my salads now look like something my mom would eat, complete with sunflower seeds, craisins, and no dressing, just vinegar. i even sprinkle a little brewer's yeast on there, for good measure.

the older i get the more i have come to understand the importance of taking care of myself. i can already feel that the ol' limbs aren't as limber as they once were. it is not as easy to go out and run a quick mile. not that i'm some old lady or anything, it's just that i'm realizing more and more that i will be an old lady sooner rather than later if i do not take care of myself, exercise, and eat well. i'm just glad i had a mom who understood that right from the get-go. she planted the seeds...and now i am eating them on my salads. -sn

Annie, Annie are you ok?

i am now officially certified in adult/child and infant one person and two person CPR, use of the AED, and use of the heimlich manuever on both adults and infants. i carry an official card that i can flash to anyone who questions why i've got my mouth pressed up against someone else's at the scene of an emergency.

you will be happy to know that the dummy's name is still Annie, and she still tastes like rubbing alcohol and rubber. i can still taste the sweetness of her soft, supple lips even still this morning....blech! -sn

what is conflict?

when i was living in honduras a man once tried to rob me. i was riding on a bus with my friend hannah. we were heading towards the centre of the city to do some saturday morning shopping in the open air markets. i had my hand leisurely dangling out the window, trying to catch a breeze. because it was saturday, there was a lot of traffic. our bus was stopped and it was hot.

as i sat there, boiling in the heat, i did not notice the small posse of men that had gathered beneath my window, admiring my hand. the flash of silver encircling my finger had attracted them. one of the men looked up at me and said, "give me your ring as a gift." i peered out the window at him and mistook his demand as a flirtatious request. i giggled and said, "no, i don't think so..." he asked again, a little more sternly, "give me your ring as a gift." i became annoyed, "no!" "give me your ring!" he said. "NO!"

the men went away, or so i thought. but, before i knew it the men had entered the bus and filled the seats surrounding hannah and me. we were trapped. the man who had been asking for my ring had taken the seat in front of us. he turned and said, "give me your ring." i didn't understand what the big deal about my ring was. it was probably worth $8. a friend had given it to me and i had been wearing it for many years. i rarely even thought about it. but the fact that someone was trying to take it made me mad! so, i refused.

faster than you can say "oh shit" this man was over the seat, grabbing at my hands and my purse. from somewhere else more hands were added to this scrambling tangle, including my own. i scratched, i slapped, i defended that $8 ring.

in the end, the bus driver bravely came to the back of the bus and asked the men to leave. that bus driver risked his life for me and my cheap piece of silver. you see, most likely those men were gang members. and i've heard it told that at that time gangs controlled the buses. they would demand money from the drivers and sometimes kill the drivers who refused. i was reprimanded by every honduran i knew. i still feel ashamed that i did not just hand over that ring. i could have avoided a lot of conflict.

the truth is, we live in a desperate world. conflict abounds. and by conflict i do not mean just war. what i'm describing here is a conflict of interests. you see, what seemed like a cheap piece of probably fake silver to me, was seen as "food" or "opportunity" for someone else. my $8 ring was wealth to another.

in my last post i described my personal struggle with diamonds and their bloody past. but, the truth is that probably 98% of diamonds sold today are labeled "conflict free." that is, the money made by the diamond industry no longer goes towards funding war. but what is your definition of "conflict?" this is the other reason why i do not wear diamonds, and it's probably the more important one.

here are just a few facts:

* in 2005, about 10.1 million children died before they reached their fifth birthday. Almost all of these deaths occured in developing countries, 3/4 of them in sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia, the two regions that also suffer from the highest rates of hunger and malnutrition.

* worldwide, more than 1 billion people currently live below the international poverty line, earning less than $1 per day

*In the United States alone, 14-20 million PCs are thrown out each year

now, i wanted to find a fact about how much of the world's resources the US uses in comparison to the rest of the world, but i think that last fact makes the same point. conflict of interest. children are dying and people in the US have enough money not only to buy a PC but to throw it away and buy another one!

how you define "conflict" determines whether or not you think diamonds are "conflict free." to me, men made billionaires by diamonds dug by people who struggle to eat is a conflict. i stand by my last post in saying that we cannot single-handedly fight every battle that presents itself to us. we would be running in circles! and, i still could care less whether or not you have a little sparkle on a certain finger. but i, for one, do not want to wear something on my finger that costs more than what one person somewhere else will make in a lifetime. i do not ever want to have something that means so much to me that i am not willing to give it up to someone who is desperate enough to rob me for it, unless that thing is brett. -sn

by the way, one day a few years back i lost that silver ring. it flew off my finger in my sister's yard. i didn't even care. they probably mowed over it...that ring that i fought off robbers for...

a girl's best friend

i just finished listening to a January Series speaker at Calvin, Gerard Thomas Straub. He creates documentaries highlighting the plight of the poor. During his presentation he said,

"i don't show these films to bring out feelings of guilt but TO BRING OUT THE REALITY OF THE POOR."

isn't it weird that he felt like he had to explain himself? he knew that people might have feelings of guilt b/c of the content of his films. and he felt like he had to explain that that was not his intent. why did he feel that way? is our guilt his problem? do you ever feel like you have to explain yourself in this way? i do...

to celebrate my birthday brett and i decided to take in a light-hearted, easy-on-the-eyes flick. we saw blood diamond. needless to say we both left the theatre emotionally exhausted. i'm not going to give a run-down on this film b/c i think the title explains it all: BLOOD.DIAMOND.

everyone should see this movie. to say the least, it puts up on the big screen a hard to swallow REALITY. i know that many of you are probably sighing and saying, "here it comes..." but i'm not going to preach. i just want to share something that i often struggle with.

i choose not to wear diamonds. before brett asked me to marry him i asked him to please not buy me a diamond ring. and he got a lot of slack for it. not by me, of course, but by others who didn't understand what we understand. you know, i too can appreciate the beauty of a diamond. and i can even value the tradition and symbolism that surrounds this, the strongest, longest-lasting stone. but, you see, people have died b/c of diamonds. diamonds have a bloody history. and what drove that history forward was just the greed of a few. the weight of that history is just too heavy for me to ignore or, in this case, wear on my finger.

but, here's my struggle: honestly, sometimes i have a hard time not wearing a diamond. not b/c i want one but b/c i think that other people think that i judge them for having one. so, i feel guilty about maybe making them feel uncomfortable. isn't that weird? i find that i explain and excuse just like Straub did before sharing his very powerful film. but, like Straub, it is not my intent to make people feel guilty. rather, i feel like this is one small way that i can, "BRING OUT THE REALITY OF THE POOR."

there is a scene in the film, blood diamond, where one of the characters hunches down to describe the african soil beneath his feet. he takes it into his hand and lets it drip through his fingers. he says its colour is red b/c of man's blood, shed.

i've been to africa. i've walked her land. i've met some of her people. i've held her soil and let it drip through my own fingers. i feel like i can, in a small way, honour this land by not wearing a diamond.

i don't know why, but God entrusted me with a very important gift. over the years i have spent time with some of the poorest of the poor. poor physically, mentally, and spiritually. i have shared meals with them, sharing the same bowl, hands sometimes grabbing for the same piece of food. i have slept in beds with them, once seven of us sharing just three beds. i have prayed with them lifting up the same requests in different tongues. i have exchanged smiles and tears with them. and i have learned from them.

since taking my first step onto foreign soil my life has changed dramatically. i've seen these things, and i've met these people, and God has given me opportunities to change and now i just want my life to be a testament to the people i have met. i want to say, "hey, i haven't forgotten." i'm sorry if this makes you feel guilty.

i've found that when i come face to face with poverty i have two choices. i can feel guilty and wait until the feeling fades. or i can change, out of duty to my fellow man. out of duty to jesus, God become flesh. yes, i fail. sometimes i fail miserably. but i try. and i'm going to keep trying. b/c wasn't it jesus who said, "i tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me?"

i realize that my battles are not your battles. there are many "causes" in this world and we cannot single handedly fight them all. many of us fight the good fight in many different ways, and all together we cover many different issues. some of us buy locally, some of us buy used, some of us buy fair-trade, and still others of us try not to buy at all. some of us save water, others of us recycle. some of us are bicycle riders while others of us use our own two feet. there are those of us who stand on corners with signs in protest and those of us who spend time creating relationships with the lost in our communities. all noble causes. if none of this sounds familiar to you then perhaps its time to suit up and choose your weapon.

i didn't want this post to be about diamonds. the truth is, i could care less if you wear a diamond or not. i just choose not to. the point is, there are numerous ways to BRING OUT THE REALITY OF THE POOR. it's a matter of being conscious about our choices and not making excuses for our behaviour. -sn

gerard thomas straub
blood diamond
an obvious choice

ps - on my 29th birthday i got carded before entering blood diamond. you have to be 17 to see R-rated movies. on one hand, this made me feel quite good about myself. heh. but, after watching the movie i found it very ironic that in some countries children as young as six are soldiers, toting guns, killing people. but, in our country you have to be at least 17 to even watch such atrocity on a screen. i'm not saying we should bring our children to such violent movies. but perhaps there are other ways to introduce them to the REALITY of our world. if we start them young, who knows what change we might see in the future.

they say it's your birthday? it's my birthday too!

this morning i woke up and realized that this will be the last year of my 20's. it's my birthday and i am now 29. so, i laid in bed awhile and contemplated about what has made up the ten years between my teens and (gasp) my thirties. here's a recap of the top 10 most defining events:

1. i went from being a college student waitressing at a brewery, to working as a camera girl for a news station, to working in advertising, to being a teacher in Honduras, to working as a radio producer, to going back to school to become a nurse. unfortunately i will not be a nurse until i am thirty...and a half.

2. i lived in honduras for a year and a half and england for a month.

3. i was a jr. high youth group leader for 3 years and served on my church's social justice committee for 2. being part of that committee allowed me to be involved in various events in my community, my favorite was getting to know part of the hispanic immigrant population here in GR.

4. i buried two grandparents, both grandpas.

5. i've travelled to 19 different countries: honduras (3 times), guatemala, el salvador, nicaragua, costa rica, mexico, china, mongolia, england (2 times), ireland, scotland, romania, hungary (2 times), poland, the netherlands, belgium, cyprus, nigeria, ecuador, and 20 countries if you count canada (numerous times). but at that time i didn't even need my passport. by the way, i've had to amend my passport for extra pages...

6. i've eaten many oddities while traveling including, goat's head (eyeballs and all), fermented mare's milk (that's right, from a horse... and yes, i said "fermented" and yes, i did get very very sick. i even called my mother from mongolia to say my goodbyes), months old goat yogurt complete with goat hair and some strange chunks (talk about live cultures!), pounded yam and guinea corn (it crunches like sand) dipped in a snot like soup, many many different kinds of mystery meat including probably dog, in china, and probably the worst...two months of noodles with nothing but tomato paste and canned corned beef for a topping in nigeria. i lost 5 pounds. but have since gained 25...

7. i became an aunt 6 times over. i have 7 nieces and nephews but one was born before i was 20, i believe. i am very proud of this role.

8. i got married to my best friend.

9. i bought a home

10. i've had people ask for my autograph.

i could die a very happy woman. but, i would kinda like to see what the future holds first....

happy birthday to me! -sn

it's a....hearse!

today i looked out my window at work, and this is what i saw. Goodbye Gerry, goodbye.



*if you look closely, the first car is the presidential hearse. about a thousand black cars followed behind it. tons of people were lining the streets waiting to catch a glimpse...of...the car, i guess. honestly, it wasn't very exciting.