Negotiations.

Nothing makes me feel more accomplished than surviving a hot summer run. I had forgotten how much this weather is the reason I love (and sometimes hate) running. Around 3 p.m. I decided to lace up the running shoes and go to the gym. I put my headphones in, started rockin' out to get myself pumped for it, and exited the front door of my residence hall. On the grassy quad, a group of guys was playing baseball, there was a decent breeze blowing, and even a few passing clouds. Observing this scene, I thought, "hmm, maybe I should just stay out here. So I took off toward parts unknown in Uptown New Orleans. 

Running when its hot is a test of what you're made of. You have to start, which is half the battle, get into something that resembles a pace or rhythm, and then you have to keep going until you can't go anymore. Things started off relatively well, as I leapt over sidewalk cracks in front of enormous Southern mansions draped in shade by old oak trees. For probably the first 15 minutes, you might have seen me and thought to yourself, "wow she's sweaty, but it looks like she is enjoying herself!" I would have agreed with you. 

But then I turned a corner. I reached Magazine Street, made a right, and all that lay ahead of me was blazing sun, cars, and open stretches of treeless sidewalk. I could have stopped. I wanted to. But instead, I turned up my iPod, wiped my brow, and dug in. Sweat dripped mercilessly into my squinted eyes as I looked for a place of refuge. I hit the corner of Webster Street and found myself in shade again, though I felt as if I had just run through Dante's ninth level of hell. By the time I made it to the corner of Calhoun and St. Charles, where Loyola is located, every part of me was screaming to stop, so I walked the last block and entered my hall again, soaked in sweat and feeling as though I had just won Olympic gold. 

I forgot about these runs, these negotiations with my body and mind to keep going, which first began in Richmond, the birthplace of my love for the hot run. Questions rip through my brain, can I keep going? Can I make it one more block? Can I keep this pace? And, when all the answers to those questions are yes, the world is my oyster. When the answers are no, it can be downright depressing, but all the more encouragement to go out and try again.

As I struggled through the 90-degree, unforgiving afternoon today, I thought about how much of my life is about negotiations right now, some literal and some mental. In the literal sense, Amy (my co-intern) and I negotiated with our supervisor for some additional compensation yesterday, as we came to realize the staffing changes and workload in the office were going to differ from what we anticipated. It was nerve-wracking and challenging, but the conversation went great, and I am happy to be part of the minority of women, according to research, who ask for more when they think they deserve it. I am also mentally negotiating what I want for myself, my life, and my career. Student affairs has had its ups and downs for me over the past four years, and I am coming to a crossroads where, next year, I will be making important decisions to shape my path toward the next phase of my life. I don't know what that will look like yet, but I do know that I am not willing to negotiate my quality of life, happiness, or expectations just to "do" the next job in the march through this profession. I will be looking for a rounded package of things that will make me happy at work, and allow me opportunities for growth, challenge, and development, but also a place that won't require me to negotiate who I am as a person or professional. As I grow older, I have realized that these things are off the negotiating table for me; who I am, what I need in my career to be satisfied, and happiness in my life. 

It's likely that the next year or so leading up to graduation is going to be like one long, hot summer run to the finish line, where I'll be mentally battling all of the questions that plague my overly analytical mind. But I plan to keep pushing to the next block and going as hard as I can because a) I know I can make it and b) I always feel better and happier when I do. 

Disorienting Dilemma

In the past week and a half, I have been in some wildly different places: South Africa, Michigan, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama and now, New Orleans, Louisiana. I am not counting the drive through Indiana and Mississippi because I don't feel as though I spent enough time out of the car to really form an opinion of those (though MS had some incredible town names, and few teeth). Time is racing, and I am bracing myself against its impact. 

Terry and I arrived in the Big Easy on Saturday night around 9, the air thick with humidity and the campus largely deserted. Even in the dark, it was obvious how beautiful the campus is; soaring red brick buildings in the college gothic style of the early 19oos, large, grassy quads, and of course a tower with chiming bells. Loyola is situated in a splendid neighborhood in Uptown New Orleans on St. Charles Avenue, a classy boulevard lined with gorgeous mansions in French, Italian, and Spanish styles. Palm trees dot the roadside, and flowering shade trees arch over the sidewalks. A trolley runs directly down the middle of the street in front of Loyola, weaving its way to the heart of the city. Directly next door (and really all around us) is Tulane University, another prestigious institution with white stone buildings and a historic feel. It's like being in a college town, in a Victorian novel, in a microwave oven. 

Yesterday, Terry, Meg (my former student worker from St. Mary's College of Maryland) and I ventured downtown to stroll the infamous Bourbon Street, and I must say, it is like no place I have ever been. We hit the pavement around 3:30 on a Sunday, and every other bar and corner had live music of all genres, but primarily the blues, drunk people stumbling in the streets, strip clubs everywhere you look, and a general spring break-type feel. This description could probably apply to many other cities on a weekend night, but here, it fits New Orleans daily. It wasn't long before we picked up our first 2-1 Mango Daquiris (which you can get to-go. Almost any alcoholic beverage you can imagine can be taken to-go, including frozen specialties, beers, and even hard liquor over ice) to cool down and drink up. We meandered our way to the French Quarter, with its stunning flower-strewn balconies and beautiful townhomes, stopping at The Market Cafe for yet another delicious drink (the Creole Splash, which our waiter happily told us had "4 whole shots in one drink!".. I shared with Terry) and my first taste of crawfish etouffee- glorious- all while watching a blues group perform. You could say that minus the sweating and the general smell of Bourbon Street, it was the perfect Sunday. 

Today, I began my summer orientation internship at Loyola in the Co-Curricular Programs office. The office has undergone some major staffing changes this summer, including the loss of three out of four full-time employees. Right now, the orientation team consists of our director, a brand new assistant director, myself, and my co-intern Amy... and orientation leader (called Krewe Leader) training starts next Wednesday. As far as work goes, it looks like it is going to be a crazy summer! 

Back in January, when I began applying for NODA internships and the South Africa trip, it made sense in my head that I would only have a few days between the two experiences. But it has been incredibly jarring to unpack, repack, drive cross country and start working as though my trip abroad was long ago. I am going to work hard this week to write my final reflections on the trip, as well as the accompanying 8-10 page paper for submission next Wednesday. 

I am hoping this summer will be transformational (and no doubt the source of many more disorienting dilemmas) in a few ways that I thought I'd share in the form of some goals: 

* See New Orleans. Really see it. From as many angles and perspectives as possible. 

* Survive life on my own- When I moved to St. Mary's last year, I had my family 2 hours away. In Michigan, even when I didn't know anyone else, I had Terry and his friends to get me started. Here, I am starting out mostly on my own, in a totally different part of the country. It will be interesting to see how this experience differs from others I've had, and I hope to talk about that this summer. 

* Be my own Biggest Loser Coach and Contestant: Terry and I obsessed over this show this past year, yet probably wasted countless hours watching TV because of it, rather than getting in shape. This summer, I don't have a TV, I will be sweating my butt off, and doing shopping just for me. I am going to keep a food and exercise diary and seek to lose about 10 pounds/gain muscle definition by being diligent about my health and fitness. Hold me to this! Ask me about it, comment on it when I am not bringing it up, in general, be my other consciences. 

* Think: I want to think a lot about what I am doing in grad school, what I hope to do with my life, and specifically where I want to be when I graduate. No easy task. 

Hope summer is going well for you all. Thanks for reading!