To give = kindness; To express annoyances = ???

I feel a great deal of compassion for the homeless people around my office. DC is teaming with them, especially the area of Union Station. I don't have tons to give nor do I typically have spare change in my pockets, so the least I can do is treat them well and respectfully. I've even made acquantances with a few of the regulars around here.

I buy lunch at the Subway around the corner from my office about two times a week. There is a homeless man who stands in front of the store and asks for any spare change customers have when they come out. It's actually a clever tactic. However, I wonder if it's illegal. I'm sure if the franchisee knewn it was happening, he wouldn't put up with it. For some reason I was really annoyed by him two days ago when I went to get lunch. So yesterday as I approached the store, with little premonition I asked him his name before he could ask for my change. He told me it was Melvin.

"Melvin," I said,"Sometmes I get annoyed when you ask for my money every time I come to this store."

He just looked at me, taken aback. The thing is, I surprised myself just as much as I did him. I briskly turned to avoid the awkwardness and said, "I will give to you today, Melvin." So I went in the store, bought my food, then gave him a dollar.

As I walked away, I couldn't quite believe what I said and even now, I'm debating if my assertion to the needy man was necessary and unkind. It probably wasn't very Christian of me. Does the harsh word and the giving cancel each other out in this instance?!?! The look on his face, mouth gaping showing off a gap between dingy teeth, will forever stay with me.

I chuckle as I tell you this...

Forget something?!?!

Sometimes I ride my bike to the office. Sometimes I run home from the office. Sometimes on Saturday mornings I run to the office to get my bike and ride home becuase I left it over night. So this Saturday morning, I ambitously ran from the concrete forest of Crystal City, along the Potomac, across the 14th Street Bridge, down the Mall to make the final length toward Union Station. On my way, I kept thinking about how tragic it would be if I got to my office and was unable to ride my bike home because I forgot my access key to the building. I felt for it in my running shorts pocket several times to reassure myself it was in there.

I got into the building and grabbed my helmet. I went down to the parking garage and as I entered into the dim yellow lighted area, I realized....

I FORGOT THE KEY TO MY BIKE LOCK!!

I took the metro home because honestly, 6 miles back did not sound fun.

Rise and Shout!

One of the hardest parts of graduating from college and becoming what I like to call "a real person" is not being closely connected with the team any more. Sure, I check out the BYU website for sports updates, and fortunately, I am surrounded by enough fans of the alma mater here on the east coast that I keep up on the buzz of how we're doing. However, I genuinely miss being a fan. I get more into a game when I'm there. Gearing up in cougar attire, being in the stadium, and witnessing the battle first hand grabs my attention and is a full body experience not matched by my couch and TV. I went to Boston this weekend to quench my craving for fan-dom. BYU football played BC. The game was close. The Cougers had a great start and held it together, but then... well, let's move on. A few bad snaps and a goal post that got in the way of some kicks didn't help. Double overtime gave the game to the foe. Our defence was doing its thing quite well, and I must say that Beck, our QB, had a few really good passes.

Land of purple doors

The hallway is straight and long. The vains of a newly constructed apartment building, it usally tipped comments like "I feel like I'm in some crazy Willy Wanka land." Purple doors and striped carpet stretched for nearly 2 blocks in length. I often found myself wishing someone would do something with the mundane walls, at least add bad hotel art. Over the course of a year, I've become accustomed to it. I walked in and out of the clean concrete stairwell with the FAB sensors that allow access to residents. It became familiar somehow. I felt temporary until very recently, even though apartment 309 in the Lofts 590 was my home.

I moved there a year ago. I saw roommates come and go and now it's my turn. All of our turns. The lease is up, which marks the closure of a phase in the land of the purple doors. Our apartment was notorious for housing cute girls... My roommies became by best friends. We started with Kimber, Tracy, and Diana. Kimber left quite abruptly but brought us Caroline. Caroline and Diana moved out in the Spring. Then Laura and Noelle came in. We hosted frequent chocolate fountain parties. The after party run-down girl talk always resulted laughs about the 30 guys there for the four of us. Girls came too, but not very many and we didn't pay much attention to them. :)

Yesterday I moved out of the land of purple doors. I locked the door, walked down the hall, and the funny familiar feeling of the unfamiliarity that comes when leaving what's become an old place touched me poignantly. The Lofts are a catalyst for the next phase of my life.