the finale.

Last night.

It's funny to think that just four months ago I was sitting in my room in San Diego, surrounded by a sea of clothes as I attempted to pack with shaky hands. Now the environment looks familiar. I packed my two suitcases and mummified two boxes with tape to ship home. The rooms are empty. The goodbyes have begun. The kitchen cupboards are bare.

It's really done and by 3:15 p.m. tomorrow I will be boarding a plane for California. I survived Washington D.C. and I'm amazed at how far I've come.

My last day was spent with my journalism classmates, eating doughnuts, watching Casablanca and sharing good memories. These include: feeling so scared when we got here, laughing about our first days at our internships, jumping in the snow during the blizzard, watching the State of the Union address in a pub, learning about vocation and calling, studying in the Library of Congress, interviewing celebrities and walking to the Lincoln memorial on a windy day.

This has been the ideal study abroad experience for me. So many things confirmed and so much encouragement towards my future. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Tomorrow, I'm saying final goodbyes to roommates and friends here before eating lunch one last time with my professor. And to end with a cliche, the journey ends here but another is beginning.

Thanks for reading my rants, praises and thoughts this semester. The bundled up journalist is shedding her layers for warmer temperatures...

culture shocked in america.

Eight days and counting. Until I say goodbye to reading outside the Capitol building, eating red velvet cupcakes in Georgetown and having picnics on the National Mall. Washington D.C. has turned out to be such a different study abroad experience. I came here dreading what I "thought" Washington D.C. was all about: politics, power and white men in polished business suits. Yes, D.C. has its fair share of those three but there is more beyond the White House. Honest.

There's the Washingtonians, the locals who call D.C. their permanent home and care about cultivating community beyond the disconnect of outsiders. There's U Street, a crazy hipster area where the usual garb is dreads and torn jeans. There's the churches, that pray for the people in this city and the leaders who reside just blocks away. There's the person giving up a seat for the old man on the bus and the policymaker volunteering at the homeless shelter.

I thought that studying abroad in "America" would be a missed opportunity. I considered all my friends who would post Facebook photos of them bungee jumping in South Africa or standing outside Big Ben. But you know what? I've experienced culture shock here in ways I couldn't initially comprehend. I couldn't understand how people could be starving a block away from the World Bank or how others slept on the street underneath a sign pointing to the direction of the White House. Within minutes of the power and politics and white men in business suits, you find HIV rates comparing to Africa. How is this possible? What could I do?

I have one week left and I still feel like I haven't figured out this odd city. The citizens here do not have voting rights yet they pay taxes. When you meet people on the street, the first question out of their mouth is "where are you from?" Washington D.C. is a novelty for sure.

Eight days and counting. It's going to be culture shock going back.

the late night paper.

There's nothing better than turning in a paper to a professor, freshly printed just minutes before.

You're out of breath from running to the office and slightly shaking (the typical after-effect of three cups of coffee). You slept three hours. You're wearing a white v neck and sweats. You're hair is pulled up in a bun. You're wearing glasses to hide those red eyes. The owners of 7-11 knows your by name by now.

You've pulled another late night study session and somehow you've survived, yet again.

Every semester I tell myself I'm not going to give in and get started early but something always comes up--whether it's a new episode of Glee or a trip out to get cupcakes. The case is, I had two large papers due this week and more coming. The first assignment was a 18-page paper detailing the transformation of blogging as journalism. The second assignment was a 8-page single-spaced portfolio documenting my internship experience. I have yet to revamp papers on the four models of journalism and service learning. I still need to start my "Big Idea" paper. As for this study session, the experience was mildly typical.

The group of students here at the Washington Journalism center packed into the classroom for the entire weekend to start writing and writing and writing. We began to keep a tally on the board of the following topics: number of YouTube videos watched, number of trips to 7-11, number of bathroom breaks, number of gangster dance parties, number of legal stimulants consumed. The day the paper was due, I noticed another addition to the whiteboard: number of hours spent sleeping in the classroom. Turns out one student spent the night after falling asleep at his computer.

Even though I'm suffering from what I like to call a "paper hangover," I'm somehow managing to focus this week in between a video project I have to complete about the city and community service. Yesterday was a great break. I served at Martha's Table, a non profit that's fighting against poverty. They offer educational programs, a thrift store and feed so many homeless people in Washington D.C. For the majority of my time there, I cut up apples and oranges for a fruit salad that was mixed with a concoction of cream cheese, maple syrup and some water. My roommate and I then ate lunch at Busboys & Poets (our favorite trendy eatery/coffee shop/bookstore/venue) and walked to Mid City Cafe where we sipped lattes above an antique store.

It's at the less than two weeks mark now. Plans for the summer are already shaping up. I got a call yesterday saying I got the internship with the San Diego Union Tribune and will be the editor of the new magazine at my college. Can't wait. Now just to get through the next late nights...


Here's a picture from our lovely picnic in the park. Spring is here!!

The last month: A story of cherry blossoms, front page bylines and goodbyes

I'll go ahead and start by saying, 'Yes I am still alive.'

After almost a month's delay of blogging, I am back and ready to document my study abroad experience, even though the clock is quickly ticking until I board a plane and head back to sunny San Diego. So in as little tangents as possible (I promise), I give you a quick update of my study abroad experience in Washington D.C. from this last month with the help of numbered points (such a fan of these).

1. I finished my internship. In what felt like some strange dream, my editor walked me down to the lobby of my office for the last time to wish me off and thank me for my hard work. I completed a nine-week long internship at a daily newspaper in Washington D.C. and somehow survived. With over 20 published clips in my portfolio (with a couple being published this weekend), I realized I had experienced what only few get to experience.

Just in the last month alone, I could not fathom the places I went and the people I talked to. I had covered an arraignment for two of D.C.'s most deadliest murderers. I had interviewed actress Rosario Dawson and chatted with her in the ladies bathroom. I had talked to a mourning father who contacted the president in hopes that his son's murder who find justice. I had talked with politicians about legislation, to Virginia wine experts, to the researcher behind the new Eisenhower memorial, to protestors, to lawyers, to rockers that devoured a three pound cake for a fundraiser. I made front page with an article on D.C. tourists.

It's funny to think that just last semester I was considering changing my major and dreading this study abroad experience. Now, I was a reporter and I was loving it.

2. I went out of state twice. I traveled to New York (right) with my roommates and Baltimore to spend the weekend with my professor. My roommates and I accomplished New York in one day, leaving on a sketchy Chinatown bus a 3 a.m. and leaving at 10 p.m. We hit Central Park for breakfast, saw Chicago on Broadway, cruised through Times Sqaure, hit Rockefeller Center, ate a New York hot dog and pizza and ate at Magnolia Bakery. In Baltimore (below picture), I walked down to the pier, went to the National Aquarium, climbed up a light house, visited Edgar Allen Poe's grave, ate my first crab cake and attended my first-ever Eastern Orthodox church service. I headed up to Baltimore again just two weeks ago for an Orioles baseball game and devoured fresh BBQ for what felt like months.

3. I celebrated the resurrection of Christ. Easter weekend looked to be fairly lonely as the majority of my roommates left to visit their families while I remained stuck on the east coast. To entertain myself (and accomplish homework), I studied in a fantastic ways. I read in the shadow of The Capitol, studied in the Library of Congress and sat in local coffee shops. I went shopping with my roommate and walked almost four miles from Georgetown to the Washington monument to catch the Cherry Blossom fireworks (which we missed). I went to Easter service at Ebenezer's Community church and cooked a large Easter dinner with students here at the program. God is so good and has blessed me with a wonderful community here.

4. I found out I got R.A. I am going to be a freshman R.A. next year in the Trinity dorms! I am shaking in anticipation to already get the year started and meet my freshman girls. Carrie Kunzmann is going to be my RAR (R.A.'s roommate) and it turns out a couple people from my AC group will be living in the dorms. This includes Matt Atha (on my staff) and Sean Rollolazo (a Trinity RAR). There's so much more to experience and it's good to know that the adventure does not end here. Not to mention, I'm set to experience Walkabout which will definitely keep me in shape. Other plans for next year are still up in the air. The journalism department at my school is launching a new magazine and online publication that I hope to be involved in. I should be finding out in the next few weeks what position I may hold.

5. I realized the end is drawing near. As of today, I officially have 15 days until I leave. It came so fast and I'm wondering how I'm going to fit everything in before I go. I have a lengthy term paper due on Monday, some more community service to complete, much packing to do and lots of things to still see and experience. I'm looking for an internship this summer and hoping ot pick up my old job. Lots of 'maybes' floating around but one thing is for sure, I'm going to miss this place!

I've loved living in the city and really letting God lead this semester. He has opened many doors and will continue to do so. I'm still not absolutely sure what exact career I will be picking up after I graduate but I know that journalism is something I want to do. Please be praying for these last weeks as I wrap things up and figure out how to ship boxes.

This has been an experience of a lifetime.

virginia really is for lovers.

Old Town Alexandria. Home to Mount Vernon, trendy boutiques, cobblestone streets, red and black trolleys, a view of the Potomac river and decadent restaurants. As you pass by the colonial style houses, you can't help but imagine what type of people walked these streets. George Washington lived here once. Did he sit on the edge of the Potomac river pondering new legislation? Did he ride his horse down the streets, white wig flowing in the wind?

There was a quiet power about this place.

Despite the occasional rain and some flooded streets (of course where the Starbucks was), the town was still illuminated by history. Upon arrival, we stopped by the Visitor's center before heading to Gadby's Tavern for lunch. The restaurant has hosted George Washington in the past and the day we arrived marked the anniversary of Thomas Jefferson's visit. The waitors wore petticoats and served cornbread muffins. Nothing too fancy to eat, just a chicken sandwich but the hand-cut fries were American if anything.

A quick stroll a couple of blocks landed us at a stationary store called Paper Source where we spent too many hours sifting through the shop's odds and ends (including stick-on mustaches). Next door, many cheesy tourist gifts glowed through the window, beckoning us towards their plastic deals. The gift shop got a little ridiculous as we edged the back of the store, with finds such as a Hillary Clinton toilet bowl brush. We then discovered the Lavender Moon Cupcakery where I had my very first Hummingbird cupcake. Imagine a banana and pineapple cupcake with walnuts, topped with maple cream cheese frosting. Yum.

I must admit, I got a little homesick when I spotted a red and black trolley making its way across the street. I didn't ride the trolleys much at APU last semester but after a quick ride around the block in one of these, it made me wish radio played Christian Talk Radio and want to thank the driver loudly as I walked off.

But the true highlight of the day was the Potomac river. People say here that some who visit Washington D.C. get "Potomac Fever." In other words, they don't want to leave. I can feel my temperature rising already. How could you not with a view like this?

a fashion date with the first lady

I sat in the last row. The front lobby of the Smithsonian National Museum of American History looked different from the last time I visited. Business suits and Gucci bags replaced crying babies and khaki pants. The lobby had converted into a press room, with a large stage and four chairs. In walked the director of the museum, the secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and then designer Jason Wu.

And then she walked in.

Michelle Obama, the first lady of the United States, wife to the president and the latest fashion icon since Jackie Kennedy.

I couldn't help but let out an inaudible gasp and grab the leg of the woman sitting next to me. "That's her," I whispered. "I can't believe it."

I was helping cover the presentation of the inaugural gown of the first lady. For those who have never visited the museum before, this is a common event. Each first lady donates at least one dress to the exhibition, which features dresses dating back to Martha Washington. The presentation ceremony is a big deal and how I ended up there, I'm not quite sure.

I was set to interview the curator of the exhibition when she offered to let me see the exhibit before the public. I entered with the intentions of writing a separate story and after a brief discussion with my editor, I was set to join the entertainment columnist at the event. And wow, I don't think I'll forget it. In as quick as an hour, I passed through security, chatted with the editor and sat through speeches by both the designer and the first lady. The gown she wore stood somber yet elegant to the side of the stage, a masterpiece. I could almost see the crystals stitched on the dress sparkle.

What a wonderful journalism day.

D.C. isn't always so Bon Appetit

If you knew my family, it would be no surprise that the first thing I talk about after a couple weeks of posting is food. And what better way to lead than with a photo of Julia Child brandishing what appears to be the knives of all knives.

Last weekend my roommates and I made the trip out to the Smithsonian Museum of American History. Soon enough, I found myself gazing into the original kitchen of Julia Child (there's an entire exhibit) and joining a crowd that watched replays of old Julia Child episodes with eyes bigger than our stomachs. Beyond Child's renown love for butter, I believe there's another aspect of bravery that I admire her for. She took on challenges--new recipes, the french language, deboning a duck--with as much confidence as a woman with a large knife could muster.

And so, that's how I've felt these last couple of weeks--a struggle to brandish my own small butter knife in a business world of machetes and cleavers.

The last two weeks I became an expert on topics I never knew about: adult ice skating, homebuyer assistance programs, foreclosure auctions and grand cycling tours. I've had to research to build confidence. I've had to decode acronyms. I've had to pray to God that I could decipher documents. It's a thrilling feeling when you find the answers to your long list of questions but the beginning always feels like a new recipe (in Bulgarian rather than French). You have no idea what you're doing but by the end of the last sentence and once you hit "send," you learned something. You're always learning.

I think that's the part of this experience that keeps me going under the pressure. I have an uncanny desire to learn and to be a part of something foreign to me. You're knife becomes sharper when the questions you ask become more specific. At the foreclosure auction I ended up covering, I felt like a pro as I discussed homebuyer programs with realtors. I had become just as hyped about HFAs and how the VHDA was providing SPARC while the DDOT was helping employees (basically the conversation was mostly capital letters). The same happened with the grand cycling tour story which took me to the Italian embassy to chat with the Mayor of D.C. at a huge gala. By the end I wanted to jump on a bike and compete myself (I just learned how to ride a bike a couple years ago).

I'm never knowing what my internship or my time in D.C. will take me. I've been trying to fill my free time with short adventures (which can be hard to do when you would rather sleep than walk a mile). In the past two weeks I cruised around the Library of Congress and got a research card. I saw the Hope Diamond at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. I attended a feminist book talk at the Busboys and Poets coffee shop. I celebrated Valentines Day by eating a bananas ice cream dish with my roommates. I interviewed the CEO of a nonprofit against poverty. I gazed at rows and rows of fish at the Chesapeake fish market. I worshiped in the Lincoln theater. I listened to an interview with my professor and Denzel Washington for a class assignment. I watched the remains of the snowpocalypse slowly melt away. I ate tacos with crime reporters at the National Press Club. I got my shoe stuck in an escalator. I walked past the Capitol building for the twentieth time and still felt amazed.

I'm still deciphering the "Cookbook for D.C. Interns" but with each experience and editor critique, I can feel my confidence getting a little sharper. Now, if only to master national politics...