Went to Seattle, stereotyped everybody.

I am on a trip.  It began with heading to Seattle:

So, I left yesterday afternoon, right after I found out America was closed.  I took a shuttle from Bellingham to Seattle with the most talkative bus driver.  I’ve ridden on his shuttle before, I remember his name and his face and the amount he talked over the loudspeaker.  He get’s on his little walkie talkie thing and just…. Talks…. Some of the information he gives is relevant, some of it he is required to share for safety purposes, and some of it is him rambling on.

I got off there and headed to a train that takes me into Seattle.  I asked someone for help as I was totally lost and turns out he was headed in the same direction and the train was still half a mile down through the parking garage, so we got to know each other pretty well.

He asked me where I was from and I said, “Uhhh…. Canada?”  That was the first time I referred to myself as “from Canada.”  It was weird, but I guess there’s a first for everything.  I can’t tell if that means it’s time for me to move or I’m just embracing where I am at these days?

I took this train into Seattle which is basically the cleanest city I’ve ever seen in my life.  Even the dirty towns were spotless and shiny.  I ended up getting off at the last stop, then searching the streets for a bus stop.  There were, like, 7 bus stops on this one block, it was ridiculous.  I kept asking people for help with directions but no one knew where I was trying to go.

I ended up finding my bus stop, except there was my bus stop and then a bus stop in the middle of the road.  What does that even mean?!  I wanted to ask another person for help but I was only surrounded by men wearing baggy hoodies and smoking pot in this dark corner and yelling swear words and the N-word at each other.  I kept looking around hoping to find a woman walking by that I could ask.  Women are way less scary than men.

I decided I shouldn’t stereotype people.  Maybe these guys were really nice.  I walked up and said, “Sorry, excuse me?  Do you know if busses come to this stop or do I need to be in that stop in the middle of the road?”  The man looked me up and down with this stare like, “Who do you think you are to talk to me?”  It was terrifying, so I smiled at him.

He walked over and said, “If it’s not on the sign it won’t be here.”  Looking at me as if I was the dumbest person in the world for not knowing the fundamental rules to public transit.

I asked again if the bus would come to this stop or if I had to be in the middle of the road and he helped me figure out where I was going.  It wasn’t so bad.

I stood there waiting for my bus (which never came.  My friend had to come pick me up.) and these guys kept yelling at each other, swearing and smoking pot, and coughing so much like they’d never smoked before but they thought they were super cool.  It wasn’t one person, it was, like, all of them, just coughing away.

At one point a car full of guys pulled up by me, and they started yelling to the guys behind me.  My stereotypes, imagination, and television shows told me that I should fear a drive by as the city is filled with hoodlums and gangsters and I was on the wrong side of the street.

So these guys pull up and they’re yelling somebody’s name and this guy walks up behind me to the car and hands the passenger an iPod.  He called the guy the N-word mumbled some slang and said, “Here you go, go eat a flapjack.”

Um, what?

I like that I was basically foreseeing my death as I was surrounding myself with people the world describes as dangerous, and he tells his buddy to “go eat a flapjack.”  Now, maybe I’m just ignorant and “eating a flapjack” actually means “go f- yourself.”  But as far as I can tell, this fella’s biggest crime was loving breakfast.  But we are engrained to fear for our lives when people that look a certain way surround us.

I went on this trip to Vancouver last weekend where I led a team as they served in the Downtown Eastside.  The DTES is filled with people who are described as criminals, worthless, scary, junkies.  I’ve heard stories of people locking their doors as they drive down hastings and mothers telling their children to close their eyes while they drive by all the people.

These people are treated like animals, they are stripped of their dignity because we are scared of anyone who is genuine enough to share their struggles on the outside.  I might not agree with everything someone does, but something I am learning is that as a Christian God calls me to show people dignity.

He calls me to love.  What does that mean exactly?  We all have these different ideas of what is’t like to love someone.  For some it means shouting at someone that they are going to hell to “make them aware of their need for repentance.”  For some it means accepting everything a person chooses to do, supporting them in those choices, and defending their resistance to change as an inability to change.

I think loving someone means treating them with dignity regardless of the choices they make, the demons they are slaves to, or their grumpy attitudes on dreary mornings.

Whether I agree with your choices or not, I am called to love you, to treat you with dignity, and to serve you the way Jesus did to those around him.  That’s the big thing about Jesus though, hey?  It wasn’t that he ignored their sins, he didn’t approve their sins, he told them to “sin no more.”  But regardless of their stage in life, their past choices or current struggles, he treated them with dignity.  He spoke to women, he touched lepers, he smelled the smelly.  Who someone was or what they had done did not alter the way he treated them.  He continued to speak truth, to love them, to show them respect and dignity, to see their value hiding under rugged exteriors.  And that is what we are called to as well.  To love the soft turtle skin under the rock hard shell.

You, as a person, are more important to Jesus than your actions.  It doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever the heck you want, you are called to more.  But regardless of where you are at in your walk, you are valued, you deserve dignity and respect, you deserve love.  My money and health do not place me above you.  My heart places me at the same level as you.  We are equal, so let’s treat each other with the love that comes out of that truth.

Chris and I drove across the country one time

I have driven across America 6 times.  I know, I’m pretty much the most intense 23 year old woman you know, right?!  I actually really love driving. So a summary of the trips are:

Trip #1 with Rachel, straight across northern route.  2.5 days

Trip #2 with Ashley, we stopped in every state to do something…. TEN DAYS (insert exhausted eye roll here)

Trip #3 with Rachel again, straight across the northern route again, but we stopped for a wedding, 3.5 days

Trip #4 with a different Rachel.  It was in December and we went down to Missouri and then up to New York.  We hit a few snow storms and for a while were just driving on ice… it was like the beginning of a roller coaster when it just shakes.  Terrible, 5 days.

Trip #5 with the same Rachel from 1 and 3, went down to Arizona and then up.  We went out of our way to see the Grand Canyon and sucked at enjoying it because we were so tired.  We did spend a day with her cousins in Arizona though, experienced a couple days of 102 degree heat, and witnessed our first bottle of sun screen 100 SPF.  Didn’t know that was possible.  Took about a week.

Trip #6 with Chris, my brother.  Big mistake.  He has never driven across the country in less than 2 weeks and we had to make it to San Diego in 2 days.  And he could only drive for 6 hours without taking an hour break.  We went down to Kansas, over to San Diego, made it there about an hour before his first class started.  Then I drove up the coast by myself and took my sweet time.  So, 3 days to get to San Diego, 4 days to get to BC.

So, each trip that I have taken I have kept a Captain’s Log which was originally started by Rachel.  I still have all the Captain’s logs, but they are all in NY, except my last one with Chris which I just stumbled upon.  So, I start reading it and Chris had documented every “stupid” joke I made.  He kept a log of how long it was between stupid jokes.  I think they are still funny.

Here is some of that Captain’s Log:

10:55am “I arise!  We are passing through Syracuse already.  Good sleep.  I opened an umbrella in the car to prove a point.  Shanna got upset. >:O blah blah blah…”

11:24am “Shanna and I agree we would both be upset if I crapped in her passenger seat.”

1:28pm “Shanna made a joke about feeling ‘eerie’ in Erie, Pennsylvania.  We had to start our time between stupid jokes over.”

5:14pm “question ‘what’s a possum if opossum is a opossum (pronounced possum)’ by Shanna”

5:26pm “Shanna ‘kids eat free.  Oh good we don’t have to pay for you Chris.’ 3 hrs 30 min since last stupid joke”

1:49am “Shanna washed the windshield and then sang the line ‘I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.’  I was going to let is slide until she revealed that ‘it took me a while to think of that.’ 8 hrs 23 min since last stupid joke.”

2:51am “I told Shanna that Amy was making us pound cake.  She asked if we were going to gain a pound.  1 hr 2 min since last stupid joke.”

3:08pm “Amy is a math fiend.  Chris and she have been talking shop and making jokes about plagmograthic theories and the square root of J72BL5562T.  Seriously, it’s sooo funny…”

4:05pm “Saw a WW1 memorial.  Chris climbed on a glass roof cause there wasn’t a sign that said not to.  Then said, ‘Did you know Abraham Lincoln didn’t have this finger?  Wanna know why?  Cause this is my finger.’  He’s so dumb.”

9:49am “Shanna says, ‘Well Chris, we aren’t in Kansas anymore.’ First stupid joke of the day.”

“I really don’t know what time it is.  Maybe 2:02 am?  Anyway, I’m gonna throw up all over this place, I’m so tired.  Chris is growing more and more angry as time passes.”

3:45amish “Got inspected while Chris is driving.  Good thing the woman was only looking for mexicans and not unlicensed drivers!” (side note: about 3 hours into the drive, Chris informed me his license was expired.)

8:08 am “Shanna is high on no sleep telling me how she likes to drive with just her big toe, making lots of noise and making me take pictures of her driving.  Maybe she shouldn’t be driving.”

8:12am “Shanna says she is like a typewriter, always thinking.  I fear she may be losing her mind.  I may have to take mutiny and seize control soon.”

That’s where it ends.  We were both too tired to continue writing.

Although I don’t have the other logs, I can tell you that some include a count of dead opossums on the side of the road, and a detailed description of a car running over an opossum and skinning it, a fake account of visiting the grand canyon, people running along streets with machetes and yelling ‘anarchy!’, many accounts of near death experiences due to me turning into the wrong lane when pulling out of a parking lot, and an entire series of logs detailing the dramatic, emotional roller coaster with driving buddies.

If you haven’t driven across the country, you should do it ASAP, and although you may hate your friend you drive with in the end, it will only bring you closer together later on.

Introducing: Oliver?

I’ve been scooting about 3 weeks now, and loving almost every minute of it. The decision to buy a scoot was one of the best choices I have made. So, maybe you are asking, “what do you mean by ‘almost every minute’?” Well, Calvin doesn’t work to the best of his ability periodically. It began with side mirrors that didn’t stay put. I would position them and as I drove they would turn so they were either aiming at me or completely away. Making it basically like riding without any mirrors, which is okay, but not ideal. Then, I started trying to tighten the bolts which didn’t work, they would just loosen. Then the windshield started to loosen as well until eventually the nut holding one side of the windshield fell off mid scoot and is now missing.

But still, I thought nothing of it and continued to ride. After having it about 3 days I noticed the fuel gage was on empty. I went to fill it and only got $2 in it, I know it is a small tank, but 1.5 liters? That can’t be right. I noticed even though I filled it the fuel gage didn’t move. After about a week the tires started to squeak. I took it into the shop to see if something was rubbing on it and they said it was just the brakes. They sprayed some DW40 on it. Then I said, the fuel gage always says empty, even after I fill it, and they said, “yeah that’s just how those work. It might always say empty, you will just have to check it every once in a while.” Uncertain, I drove off. The squeaking stopped for about 2 days then started back up again and the fuel gage has rested on empty ever since. Again, I thought nothing of it and continued to scoot.

Then one day I was driving and I heard this POP! I thought, “It must be one of the cars behind me. My scooter is new, it shouldn’t be ‘popping’ by any means.” I continued to believe there were popping cars everywhere. Following me everywhere I went, until it started to be ghost cars. I would hear a pop, look around and I was on the road solo. Alas, the popping must be me. So, now Calvin is backfiring on a pretty regular basis… that can’t be good, but I continued to scoot.

I went away this weekend and I left the scoot with my friend Levi. It’s good for scooters to be ridden every day, ya know? So I drop it off and I fill him in on all the quirks. “This is missing a bolt… these don’t stay in place… this squeaks…. this pops… you have to wiggle the key here… you have to push this button, then pull this brake, then rev it three times….. don’t fill the gas passed this, or this will happen… this always rests on empty, don’t worry, that’s just how it works…”

On Sunday I went to pick it up to go to work. I checked the gas, full; gage still on empty. Took a couple times to start it and I rode off. As I was driving to work it felt like I was dragging something behind me or I was holding the brake while I rode. It wasn’t going as fast as normal and it was idling quite low. I thought, “maybe it’s just the battery?” I made it to work, locked it up and went ignorantly and blissfully on my way.

Out of work at 1130, I go to start up the scoot. Nothing. Again… Nothing. So I try it for a couple minutes, still nothing. I called my friend who had a motor bike to ask how to work the kick start. After about 5 minutes of what I’m sure looked like a baboon with a stomping problem, it started. I drove home, a little nervous. But alas, I made it.

I had to kick start it Monday morning, Monday night, and Tuesday morning. Each time feeling a little more ridiculous that it takes me so long to start it and that I have such a serious stomping problem. As I contemplated these issues my scooter has, it hit me, “this thing is only 3 weeks old. I expect these kinds of things after having the scooter a year, but not this soon. So I finally took it back to where I bought it, bringing two of my housemates, Adam and Bethany, with me. Bless their hearts.

I told them of my main issues and they checked it out in the garage. They basically told me that all of these flukes were my doing because I wasn’t doing particular things. One thing was they told me it was out of gas. I explained that the fuel gage didn’t work (per me filling it and it not moving as well as this guy telling me it was last time I came in.) they looked in the tank and said it was empty, THAT was my problem. So they start putting fuel in it and so conveniently the first time ever the fuel gage decides to work. So they are talking to me like I am a moron and I am looking at them like I don’t trust a word they are saying and they are trying to trick me. So I said, “even if it is empty now, my friend filled it on Sunday. The tank was full Sunday, even though the gage wouldn’t show that, and Sunday night was the first time it stalled.” They did random other tweaks to it and sent me on my way.

I went back up to the main building and met Bethany and Adam and explained what happened.  The lady told me she would give me a deal, to return the scooter I got for the price I paid, and pay the difference for a new Honda which is much more reliable.  Bethany, Adam and I went outside and talked about it for a while and went back in with the decision to return the scooter for the Honda.  It was kind of awkward as Bethany was trying to get the lady to give it to me for cheaper and it seemed like the lady was getting very annoyed with her.  I’m pretty thankful to have had Bethany there though, because I would have just said okay and walked out the door.

I called my dad later to tell him about the situation and he asked me if the name Calvin was done.  Yes, it is.  Some unwritten rule I have won’t let me use the same name twice, and junior isn’t an option either.  The vehicle gets the name it does because it looks like that name, and no two vehicles look the same… metaphorically speaking…  And so I present to you Oliver.

He is much more smooth and suavey, he is way lighter and easier to deal with. He has a lot less baggage, but he also holds a lot less baggage (I am referring to the fact that it does not have a carrier on the back, as Calvin did).  He also doesn’t have a windshield, it is weird how different it feels to not have a windshield.  But his mirrors work great, his gas gage works, everything on him is in new condition, which is ideal when you get a new vehicle.  He also doesn’t reek of gasoline and he is much quieter.  And he starts at the drop of a hat.

So, every time I have been to this shop I deal with the mom and her son.  The mom is the lady that sells me the scooter and gives me the deals, the son is the one that fixes them.  I am beginning to think I am getting better acquainted with them, or at least I thought I was.  But I should have known my awkwardness will always win out.  I bought Oliver yesterday, but he had to be serviced and I had to go to work.  So, I went to pick him up today.  I was with my friend Robbie who recaps the story much better.  So, basically, we walked in and the son is sitting on this computer behind the desk.  He looks at me and says hi, so I said hi.  Moments pass….. Then he looks at his computer, back at me, back at his computer, back at me and says, “uhhh what can I do for ya?” and I said, “I’m here to pick up that scooter…” and pointed to Oliver.  And he said, “Oh, I knew that was getting picked up today but I didn’t know it was you buying it.”

He goes outside, I pay for the bike and fill out the paperwork.  I go outside and meet the son for him to tell me how this one is different than the other one.  As he is trying to tell me things, his mom keeps cutting him off with, “Are you going to tell her about this?”  He keeps looking at her and rolling his eyes.  Family dynamics in business are weird. I drove the scooter down the road and back.  The lady asked me to go down the road and come back to tell her how I like it.  So I pull back in thrilled at how much better this bike feels and drives.

We were talking about changing the oil and somehow it was brought up that the son saw me “flying down Clearbook with a big smile on my face.”  I told them about how much I laugh out loud on the scooter and people are always staring at me, also about when I pulled up to turn on Mt. Lehman, accidentally laid on the horn and then started laughing like crazy.  The mom and son thought that was a pretty great story and got a good laugh out of it.

Later, Robbie recapped the story, explaining that I looked so awkward and nervous when I walked into the store that he thought I was about to keel over.  He started imitating me and the conversation.  I was sure the son and I had three awkward moments, but Robbie assured me that there was only 2 very very awkward moments with, “I know, I was the lucid one during the whole situation.”  It’s true, my awkwardness often takes me entirely out of the situation.

Introducing: Calvin

We all have a bucket list right?  If you are like me there are a chunk of things you have always wanted to do that you never wrote down but just always know and sometimes mention.  On my bucket, since I can remember, is owning a motorcycle.  And probably about 4ish years ago owning a scooter joined that list.  Well folks, today I can cross owning a scooter off my imaginary list.  Meet Calvin:

After having my good friend Nikki drive Calvin home for me I took him for a spin around the neighborhood to work towards being more confident on him.  It was raining and I must say, I thought rain at 50km wouldn’t be so bad, but I was a little wrong.  I was riding around ducking under the windshield to protect from the sting.  Also, I’m pretty sure the wind made my contacts slide around and almost fall out so I had one eye squinted for a while.  I never thought potholes and divots in the road would be so terrifying.  Also, I have a hard time turning right without braking.  I think my elbow gets nervous and won’t bend, but I’ll get better.

On my cruise around the block I decided to attempt a left hand turn so I went to the corner of Mt. Lehman and Blue Ridge.  I thought if it wasn’t really busy I would turn onto the road, but if it was I would just pull a U-ey and head back home.  As I pulled up to the stop sign squeezing the brake there was a hefty flow of cars, my thumb slipped and I totally started hitting the horn on accident.  Not like, just one little beep, like multiple beeps as my hand slid around… super awkward.  But what did I do?  I laughed awkwardness in the face… literally.  I started laughing out loud really hard to the point where the guy in the truck thinking I was honking at him was just staring at me like I was crazy.

Then as I went to pull left onto Bluejay there was a car turning left from Bluejay onto the road I was on.  So I was just waiting in the turning lane and they were waiting so I figured they were waiting for me.  Rather than politely wave, nod and drive along I again burst out laughing and rode away just laughing.  I mean, I laugh out loud at things all the time in my car alone, but not many people see that.  Now, everyone can see how crazy I am all the time, my helmet gives me no protection from humiliation.