a whirlwind move into my own apartment sans roommates!

So, I'm still itching and scratching to write about Honduras, and I assure you juicy details and deep insight are soon to come, but I will explain in this entry what is causing the hold up.

I finally moved out of J Street lofts and into my own place in midtown, and for the first time in my entire life, I have no roommates. I have no idea why I didn't do it sooner. Since leaving home at sixteen years of age, I had to budget, and count pennies to scrap by, so my frugal ways just didn't allow for me to pay for a luxury such as living in an apartment all to myself.

But no more. I decided enough is enough, I deserve to pay for liberty and freedom to come home to a place that is all mine and no one else's. I can now prance around in my underwear if I want, and if I have dirty dishes in the sink, I have no one else to blame but myself.

Before I go on and on about how great it is, I'll show you some before and after shots of my little nook. Here is the entrance of the building. It's Spanish-inspired and quaint.



Next, you walk up a flight of stairs and the studio is located on the second story. When you walk in, there is a fair-sized window facing you and a fairly big walk-in closet with french doors to your left. The closet is still not quite big enough to house my insanely huge wardrobe ( more on this later), but it is adequate.

 
 

The small but clean bathroom features a window, which is important to me because I like scalding hot showers and the steam can cause mold if I don't have a window to air it out, and a pedestal sink that adds a unique touch.

 
The kitchen is my favorite part because it has built in bookcases with glass doors. That is pretty much what closed the deal for me. The photo taken here was rushed so I failed to include the archway at the ceiling but that is also a small detail that I appreciate and like most about the kitchen.
 
 

So, I saw the ad on craigslist, and went to see the apartment, literally the night before I left for Honduras. The morning before taking off, I stopped by and submitted an application, the credit check fee, and a list of references. When I got back 13 days later, I had an apartment waiting for me. The day I got back into the country, I had a lease waiting to be signed and a set of keys.

I also had a full week of classes waiting for me, as well as work. Functioning on less than four hours of sleep each night, I plowed through work, classes, homework, packing, and moving the first week I returned to the country from an amazing backpacking trip through the villages and cloud forests of Honduras.

All weekend long with the help of my brother, my parents, and Paul, I managed to get my upright piano to my parents' house, pack all of my wordly belongings, and refused to sleep until every single box was unpacked and thrown into the recycle bins. Now I am all settled in, with most of my law school homework done and loving this new habitat that I've set up for myself. I am longing to catch up on sleep sometime soon, but I have a CASA crab feed and a boatload of more law school homework waiting for me so it is hard to tell when that opportunity will come next. But for now, I am really pleased that I was able to do this.

Go. Go. Go. The craziness just won't stop!

Here is my work in progress:

Ok, so the eliptical machine isn't very fung shui but so what? I use it on rainy days when I don't feel like getting soaked for a workout. 

Below is my closet in progress. The shoes displayed here is not even half of my collection and I haven't color-coordinated them yet. I have two more shoe racks coming. Stay tuned.

 
Actually, as I was organizing the clothes and shoes, I was ashamed of myself. I just got back from a country so poor that some children didn't have shoes on their feet, and here I am huffing and puffing about having too many clothes and shoes. Correction, I was huffing and puffing about not having a closet big enough to house my clothes and shoes. So ridiculous. So I had to take a few big garbage bags and start throwing things in. I had to let go of some of this materiality. Now I have a couple of big fat garbage bags full of designer clothes that still fit me, but don't fit into my closet or dresser. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but my intention is to donate them all to a good cause or a person who really needs it.

 



 
If you can't tell, I decided to take these pictures while in the middle of studying. I needed a break. So please excuse the mess and the beer bottle that is hiding my wonderfully colorful Honduran cloth that I used to decorate my kitchen table.

It's tiny and humble, but this place is my own, and I am satisfied and happy about this move.

Entry on Honduras is soon to follow.

my federal courthouse experience (oh and happy new year)

Happy New Year folks! Wow it's already 2012, time is just flying by. New Year's is my favorite holiday because we celebrate life, and the future ahead of us. It's the day we realize that time keeps going, and we have to enjoy the here and the now and to make goals and live our lives to the fullest.

I just got back to the country four days ago, and it already feels like I never left. I am barely keeping my head above water. Survived my first set of law school exams with B's (disappointing but it's a starting point), started classes in full swing, have a fourth class (crim law) on Thursday nights, and I'm hitting the road running at work, and moving to a new apartment, my very own apartment with absolutely no roommates (!) this weekend and thoughts of Honduras are floating around in my head like crazy. I am literally itching to write about my experience there but there is so much to say, so much reflection that I want to share, that I can't just hurriedly knock it out on my lunch hour at work.

All I have to say for now is that it was once again, much like all of my world travels, a life-altering experience where I feel like I'll never be the same again. And the trip generated more than ever, questions about our role in the world as Americans, our foreign policies, and outside views about the U.S. and to see our own culture from an outside perspective as well as learn about the culture of their country... I will save these insights for later.

Today I want to talk about my tour of the federal courthouse that I went to for a school assignment. This morning, a few of my classmates and I went to the district courthouse and sat in on Judge Morrison England's proceedings and heard about five to six criminal cases being presented before the judge. It was pretty intense in there. There were a lot of black power suits and serious attitudes. When the prisoners were escorted into the room with their orange jumpsuits on, their hands and feet shackled in chains, my skin tingled and a wave of emotion overtook me, pinched my nose and I felt stinging wetness in my eyes.

There was a child pornography case, and a couple of serious drug charges. These were repeat offenders with a long history of convicted crimes, and were there for various reasons like a disposition hearing, or entering into a plea. There was one kid who was facing charges for having in his possession 50 grams of methamphetamine (actual). He is my age. He doesn't speak any English. He had a translator with him, and he entered a plea bargain and gave up his constitutional rights. He will face possible deportation. It broke my heart as I thought about what this means for his life, his family, and his future. What a devestating event in his life, for him to go through this.

I couldn't help but remember my past and how I, too, once stood in court, spoke to a judge, shaking from the fear and anticipation of being there and the outcome to follow. So I knew that although outwardly they seemed calm and quiet, on the inside how fearful they might have been feeling. I don't feel sorry for them, but it was terribly sad the poor decisions they made and how those decisions will now impact their own lives as well as their families.

These are people's lives that are being decided in courthouses, and it makes such a huge impact. Whether they will change for the better or not remains to be seen. Some of them need help, not jailtime. I was once again reminded of how fortunate I was to have a family and a home that welcomed me back after my rebellious stint and helped me to get back on my feet. If I didn't have that, would I be where I am today? And for all of those who don't have that- what are they supposed to do? As my classmate and I walked out of there, he muttered that it isn't the government's role to rehabilitate drug addicts. I bit my tongue. But I managed to control the emotion in my voice when I asked him, so do you think locking them up is the answer? He said, yes, if they do the crime, they need to just go to jail. Although, it's too comfortable in there for them. I got into a restrained explanation of the policy implications about what it means to just lock people up and the costs and effects associated with that, but I knew that I wasn't going to single-handedly convince him otherwise of his views, so I didn't push the matter.

I walked away from that building remembering my own experiences and how far I've come. I remember the fear, and the days of when I hit rock bottom and how hard that was. I saw those prisoners and just felt the emotions they are experiencing at this point in their lives. And my heart hurts for them. It's not sympathy I feel, but I don't feel anger or disgust either. This is life, and we are all human, and we all make mistakes. Once again, I am filled with gratitude for all that I have and all the support I was given along the way to change my life for the better. It gives me renewed inspiration to keep working hard to achieve my goals and stay focused.

Anyway, I think more people should go to the courthouse and see for themselves what the proceedings are like. It definitely adds a human element to see how these cases are affecting people's lives and they are not just numbers or cases, they are people. And what happens to them affects us as a society. If you don't think it has anything to do with you, you're refusing to see the blatant fact that we are all connected. Your tax dollars are paying for that court proceeding and the housing and medical care that the convicts will receive when they are incarcerated. So if you think it's a waste of money to get them treatment or some kind of help, you will be wasting money on incarcerating them. So which would you rather spend your money on?