First, I must say that I am very angry right now. VERY. I had a huge post typed up about my day today then suddenly the page reloaded and it was gone. It was just great. I love it when my computer does that. No really. It's great. Makes my life so much better...
Anyways, I’m typing this up on a document in Pages so it is going to be all right! Second times a charm.
So! Today... Today was a very important day in my life. So far in my college experience, I have had 3 very important days (I say “very” because every day is important, these 3 were particularly important though). The first was I participated in my very first protest! I will explain that in another post though a different time because it’s a whole different story. The second is, I turned 18. Which I feel is a very significant age. I can now ride a bike without a helmet legally! Hah! No more helmet hair. And I can vote (it just got really real up in here). And last but not least, today. And that is what I am going to write about. It involved the President, two teams, an aircraft carrier, and of course, a basketball. And for some strange reason Pamela Anderson... Don’t ask me why though because I am baffled too.
It began when I received a scholarship from the Scholarships for Military Children Foundation through my local Commissary. I expected to be dropped like a hot potato as they moved onto the next applicant after giving me my funds but instead was surprised to come home one day with an email from them in my inbox, asking if I wanted to participate in a brief ceremony at the Carrier Classic.
Hold on... Let me think about that. There will be food there? And hundreds of young men running around in uniforms? If you insist :)
The next thing I knew, I was standing on the flight deck of the USS Carl Vinson with the wind whipping my hair into a beautiful bird’s nest and people bustling past in splurges of excitement as famous people emerged from who-knows-where. I was practically raised on aircraft carriers so the feel of the strong wind, the groan of the boat shifting with the tide, and the grippy tar under my feet, were all too familiar. But today was a completely different feeling. The deck was packed with hundreds of people. Hundreds of LOUD people. All yelling into their phones and raising their voices above the wind as they waved frantically to their friends lost in the sea of people. It was actually really funny to watch. One woman stood on her seat for a full 5 minutes waving her arms back and forth trying to get the person sitting in the bleachers across the court to see her. I kept waiting for her iPhone to fly out of her hands. Thankfully, it didn’t and I think she gave up. Anyways, there was a lot of people everywhere,and most of them were wearing one of three things, either Carolina blue to represent North Carolina, forest green to represent Michigan, or a uniform. I was one of the few and the proud wearing a neutral color.
I arrived at 12 but the game didn’t begin until 4 so I had 4 delightful, hours of riveting fun until game time. I stood in line with my dad for cold hot dogs and luke warm mustard and ketchup (mmm, my favorite), sat and chatted with the President of the Fisher House Foundation, John, who is in charge of distributing the scholarship money the Scholarships for Military Children Foundation gave me, and watched the band sing their hearts out in every genre known to man.
At around 3:30, Airforce One flew past. The President was on island. This sent the audience into a frenzy and everyone stood, anxiously awaiting his arrival until the Captain of the ship’s voice boomed from the Tower and graciously informed us that the important people stepping on and off the court were only practicing. In reply to this, John shouted back indignantly that “we were practicing too!” And I realized he and I were going to get along very well. A few minutes later, the teams took the court and the Secretary of the NAVY introduced himself. About 3 of the players were 6’11”. 6’11”. Jeez. I assumed that these types of basketball players were what began the saying “TALL, dark, and handsome.” Finally, at 4:00, the President and Mrs. Obama were introduced and stepped onto the court, waving and smiling to every human being possible. Standing in the bleachers, it was so strange to think that I was in the presence of one of the most important people in America right now. I could feel a buzz stir in the crowd and couldn’t help but feel my heart race with adrenaline. To be this close to him was crazy. I have heard stories before of people who fainted when they saw him. Thankfully, I didn’t faint though, and no one else did either. After he gave a few words and shook hands with several people, the game began. Let me tell you, these boys play with passion. And they’re huge too. So it’s like watching giants battle against each other. At one point, a smaller player was brought into the game and all I could picture was a little bug being squished. You will all be happy to know he made it through without being squished once, his size was actually an advantage because he could move more quickly than the bigger players.
A few minutes before halftime, a representative from State Farm lead the other scholarship recipients, John, and myself down to the court where we sat on the player’s empty seats until it was our time. I sat and talked with the young businessmen from State Farm sitting next to me as we waited and found myself wishing I could be like them one day, working hard, walking around in classy business suits, and meeting all sorts of important people. This moment did not last very long though because in the next moment, I was escorted into the middle of the court where I stood awkwardly awaiting further instruction. I stood next to John and smiled for the cameras as they flashed and filmed. It was over as quickly as it happened and I was soon walking off the court back to my seat. By this time, the players were back on and preparing for the second half. I wished them luck as they thundered by, feeling like a little shrimp. At one point, one of the boys from Michigan walked past me and I literally had to look straight up in order to see his face.
After halftime, my dad was ready to leave so we beat the masses of traffic and blew that popsicle stand. We went to T.G.I. Fridays to watch the rest of the game and have their Veterans Day Special then finished the night with a Gold Rush Sunday from Ghirardelli (so much for being good...). We also went to Urban Outfitters where I drooled over their awesome camera collection and took pictures with my dad with glasses and mustaches on.
All in all, it was amazing and I had an amazing time with all sorts of amazing people. And that was one of the most important days of my life :)
(Note: I have not personally gone through and spell checked this. So please excuse any despicable errors)
A monstrous roar blasted through the quiet of breaking dawn as the bulky plane slowly began its taxi down the runway. It was 5 in the morning. I was seated on netted sling seats between my two sisters in a c5 military aircraft with no windows except for a two small openings on each of the exit doors. After days spent in a stuffy and cold airport, we had finally caught a flight out. Our destination; Europe.
Flying in to Ramstein, Germany, we crammed our suitcases and bodies into a peculiarly small rental car then drove to Neuss as our first stop of many. We toured Germany, Switzerland, France, and Italy, within the span of 21 adventure-filled days.
Eating is a magnificent way to immerse yourself in the local culture because the type of food a culture consumes defines the people. One thing you should know about my family is that we are very food-centered people. When we travel, food is a huge aspect of our journey, so we definitely experience a healthy serving of culture in each place we visit.
In Germany, hearty foods such as potatoes, wurst, are staple foods. For snack time, we enjoyed (yes, enjoyed) Liverwurst smeared on bread or crackers and drizzled with some of the most flavor-full mustard that ever touched my young American taste-buds. Heinz pales in comparison. Switzerland had eating habits similar to Germany except for one snack that was very popular called Raclett which is melted cheese on toasted bread. What could be better then warm bread smeared with gooey cheese? In Italy, my dad stopped at literally every gelato shop we passed in the streets and bought my sisters and I a scoop of the local favorite, despite my mother's warnings against hyping us up on even more sweets then we had the capacity for. Popular choices for France are Escargot, the ever tempting French Baguette, and of course, cheese with a selection of fruits and wine to cleanse the palate before the next course. Bread is a favorite food of mine so being in France and experiencing the Baguette in its original, always freshly baked, state, was a small taste of Heaven. The French people also enjoy a snack of radishes sliced down the middle then topped with butter and salt. This light treat is the equivalent of celery sticks and ranch dressing (or an indulgent bag of deliciously salty potato chips) for Americans.
Conveniently able to speak the native language in every country we visited, my dad would send my sister's and I into random hole-in-the-wall stores with instructions on how to order the usual local snack.
In Paris, he debriefed me on my order and sent me out at the innocent age of 9 in to a strange store where entire bodies of beef, lamb, and venison, hung from the ceiling and more liquor then I ever knew existed lined the walls from top to bottom. I shuffled shyly up to the counter where the checker stood grinning down at me, awaiting my next peculiar move, and in my best French accent recited, "Une baguette et une bouteille d'eau s'il vous plaît?" All I remember after that is him laughing at my broken french as he retrieved my order then nodding goodbye as I paid my dues and ran as fast as I could back to the car.
In Switzerland and Germany, the people are much more accepting of terrible accents and feeble attempts to speak the local language. We stayed in a Hostile near the Swiss Alps one night and although we shared a bathroom with every other human being sleeping there, brushed our teeth in deep, trough sinks that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in weeks, and slept in old creaky bunk beds next to walls completely covered in graffiti, I remember that the morning breakfast was lovely. The waitress in the small cafe engaged us in friendly conversation with patient understanding of my sister and I's lack of linguistic skills besides the common greeting and "where is the bathroom?". We enjoyed the house hot chocolate with homemade whipped cream and wheat toast with sweet strawberry jam and butter supplied by the cows grazing in the field outside our window.
Europe has so many different wonders to offer, the history, the architecture, and the food, along with their picturesque fairy tale castles, and beautiful landscape of rolling hills, mighty mountains, and lush, green fields dotted with animals. I remember running barefoot through the hills covered with yellow wild flowers in Switzerland and singing “The hills are alive...” because it reminded me of a scene straight out of The Sound of Music. I loved it there and one day, I will return.
