You are tired. And loved.

I am closer to thirty than I ever have been in my life (I have a birthday tomorrow. Today depending on which timezone you look at?). I've become neither big nor small on birthdays. It is what it is. Sometimes they are full of wonderful bits, at others they disappoint and leave a bitter aftertaste. Just like people? Just like people. Also, just like life. Another year gone by, I check for the losses and scars, I say a quick thanks for all that went well, for all the scrapes that didn't end too badly, for the love and kindness and warmth and hug and hope that refuses to die.

Chicago

This was the week of a whirlwind trip to Chicago, a city where I have never been and got to spend far too little time. I had gone for a group interview for something I have applied for and it was a good experience. I was anxious, because I haven't really done a formal group interview, and wasn't sure what to expect. I went in telling myself that I would learn from the experience, as nerve-wracking as it may seem. It was funny, everyone's name tags had color codes on them, reflecting the degree programs they were in (MBA, Education) but my International Development got none. Sadface.

Weekend things or the one with lots of elevator spiels

This was an interesting weekend. I am taking a class on Gender and Public Policy, and it is one of the most interesting classes I have taken in grad school. On Saturday, I had the chance to attend the Elect Her training, organized by the UMN Women's Center in collaboration with American Association for University Women. It seems to be primarily targeted at undergraduates, to encourage women-identified people to run for student government and hopefully in the long run for political office. There were icebreakers, student panels, quick elevator pitches and issue based discussions. They had a quite a lot of resources spread across tables.

February!

The semester is in full swing. Travels (unexpected mostly) are coming up. Somewhere between the flurry of classes and assignments, I make it to a class or two of Pilates, and enjoy the slow pain of my body uncurling from its long lapse into laziness. The weekends are a time of pause and books surround me.

This is a recent poem I found:

'My shortest days end,

My lengthening days begin.

What matters more or less sun in the sky,

When all is sun within?'

Christina G Rossetti

Views of Downtown Minneapolis in the distance
from across the bridge