I saw Hotel Rwanda. If you ask me if it was good, I will say necessary- ask me if it was well done, and I will say intolerable. This is not a movie that can be judged, criticized, examined from afar like so many movies- for it is not fiction. Either you watch without feeling emotion because you convince yourself that it's not true, or you get hit upside the head with truth too shocking to just swallow. I tried to swallow emotion. I didn't want to taste salt. If I let go and allowed compassion to grab hold of me then I was afraid it wouldn't stop. I don't cry in public.
I knew the story already, but knowing somehow doesn't dilute the horror of it all, and there are not enough tears that could fall that would ever dilute the blood.
Part of me was too pissed off to cry.
The worst part is that I am the minority. Few even know the story- nor do they know about Burundi... Sudan. They might have heard a blurb on the evening news, but no one wants to listen to that for very long. Their dinners might get cold.

I think the saddest part of the 2 hours was the college student sitting behind me, who assured his friend halfway through: "naw dude, it's just a movie."

It's just a movie. It is easier to think that.

Rodrigo: my favorite toe

Highlight of my week: my suitemate bought shower crayons. As puerile as it may seem no one can honestly say they wouldn't be excited. I get to write all OVER my shower walls!! As if showers weren't enough fun already! I immediately took to writing spontaneous shower poetry- I hope my roomates enjoy.
I had my favorite dream EVER the other night! ( except for the one where I was chasing penguins and I had to run like they did. I was waddling all OVER the Arctic!). Many have heard about this, but bear with me. You see, my toes were interviewing for positions on my feet. (Before God of course) As could be expected, they were all fairly nervous. In case some of you are not aware, I have one particularly long toe on my right foot. I call him my turbo toe. (He definitely outgrew the big toe.) Well, turns out his name is Rodrigo. He was super nervous for his interview because he originally intended to be a finger. He was rejected from the hand seeing as he was just a little too stubby, but pleaded with God so passionately for an appendage position that he was placed on my right foot. His argument was that he could make up for being a possible stub risk by helping immensely with balance, and giving me some extra height if I really needed to do the tip-toe thing. So, Rodrigo, thankyou. Your fight for foot placement really encourages me. I love you even more now. Never again will I make fun of you, and when others do, I will stab them with you.


I am not sure why my toe is Hispanic. Perhaps I DO have a little Latin influence in me after all!!