Gratitude.

You know me. I'm usually a little overzealous and all-politics-all-the-time. But I can't be that way, today. Today, it can't be about use and abuse of references to 9/11 for political gain. Today, it can't be about my distaste for those who fail to see the brotherhood of the major Abrahamic religions. Today, it can't be academic.

10 years ago today was one of the worst days in American history. Thousands of people lost their lives, their livelihoods, their families, their loved ones, their homes, their spirits. Fortunately I have to work all day and therefore will not even have the chance to be bombarded with images and videos and sounds all over the news.

It's weird because 10 years ago today I was 13 years old. I was getting ready for like, week two of 8th grade. My life was not about politics or religion or activism just yet. My life was about walking to the bus stop and laughing my way to middle school with my best friends.

My parents are not news watchers. Never have been. That morning, a friend of my mom's called and said to turn on the tv. I was sitting at the table eating breakfast before getting ready for school. I have this memory of seeing the second plane hit. But I also don't remember knowing what it meant or what was happening. My mom sent me to school, and I told all my friends at the bus stop what had happened. We didn't know what it meant. A woman jogged by our bus stop and called out "Jesus Loves You!" to us as we waited. We didn't know why.

We didn't know about terrorism. We didn't know about radical Islam. We didn't know about radical Christianity, really, either. We didn't know what this meant.

I remember getting to my first period history class and watching the news for the whole period. I don't remember if we did anything in any of my classes that day. I recall watching the news.

AMERICA UNDER ATTACK, it said on every station.

Still, we didn't know what it meant.

I remember watching President George W. Bush speak to us. I remember, over the course of the days following 9/11 that words like "terror" and "axis of evil" and "weapons of mass destruction" flowed out of his mouth and into our living rooms. I remember being told that this was not a war on Islam and would never be a war on Islam. I still don't know what that meant.

What I am going to say today instead of anything about the GOP or about Islamophobia or about blame and conspiracy and all of the stuff that comes up when we talk about 9/11, is that today will always remind me to be grateful.

I am grateful, today, that nobodyI love has been taken from me in an act of terrorism, domestic or international. This may seem like something rather specific to be grateful for, but there are thousands of people in this country who cannot say the same. And I am thinking of them, today.

I am thinking of them and I am thinking of every member of my family and those friends of mine that are my family and how it would be the worst thing that could ever happen to me to lose even a single one of them. To lose you.

Today is not about waving American flags or holding rallies or even about preaching a certain way. For me, today is about falling to my knees in tears, thanking my God that my family is whole. That my heart is whole.

Today I will pray for everyone who lost anyone or anything in any act of terrorism anywhere in the world. And I will never stop praying. And I will never stop being grateful.

A week in our nation's capitol.

Okay so I was a little ambitious with that "day one" thing and intended to be posting every day...which obviously did not occur. But seriously this was a fantastic trip. I neglected to mention in my previous post that I fell down the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial. Obviously I survived but it seriously hurt and I have serious bruises. Sick life.

If you are my friend on Facebook, you can see all of the pictures that we took in DC. If you are not, you are a stranger and therefore all you get are these instagrams. <3

Saturday we saw the Nationals and Padres play at Nationals Park! It was a billion degrees but our seats were covered and then it rained a little and was ultimately weather confusing. But sitting in a ballpark is a sort of home for me (even a park I've never been to), so this was a lovely afternoon. And my Padres even won!

That afternoon we scoped some museums and then had dinner at this AMAZING mediterranean tapas place. And I got to eat Hünkar Beğendi -- the most delicious lamb/eggplant/yum we ate in İstanbul that I didn't think I would ever eat again -- plus amazing falafel and spanakopita and fattoush! It was joyous. Plus, dinner conversation with the five of us is never far from lively. Look for Krystal Rose and Bambi LaFontana at Open Pole Nights near you.

Then, Sunday morning was spent at the Holy Grail that is the Truman Bowling Alley! It's in the basement of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, and only the coolest politicians and friends of White House staffers (haha) get to the bowl there! It was so so so fun.

After bowling we went to actual church at the National Cathedral. Holy wow. It was so beautiful and the stained glass was incredible...I wasn't feeling well so I didn't take a lot of pictures. But google it or something. And as we were looking at them, this older man came up to us to explain what was going on in the glass. We were looking at one of the Flood (which was pretty clear) and he told us the story, then took us over to see the coolest window -- space travel! The weird part, though, was that he just talked to Fletcher, not me. As though obviously Fletcher, as the man, would be the one interested in the information, and would then relay it to me. In this situation, I'd consider myself the one with the expertise. He had no way of knowing that, of course, but it was awkward behavior on his part all the same.

After church we had some down time at our hotel before going over to Amanda's lovely apartment for dinner and games. Yumm, foods.

Aforementioned games consisted of a few rounds of Clue, during which Pammie fell asleep and my mom inadvertently sabotaged the whole game by lying at the beginning about whether or not she had Mrs. Peacock. Oh, Mama.

Then on Monday (Memorial Day) we went on a tour of the Capitol Building. So beautiful. There's this "orientation video" at the beginning that sort of explains why we have this building and the five-minute version of why we have a Congress. The Capitol is a representation of our government of the people, by the people, for the people. But it seems that in recent years, we've perverted that. The video displayed the titles of a lot of really important legislation over the years. Each time, it seemed, certain unalienable rights had been unfairly denied people by their fellow countrymen, and congress had made sure that stopped happening. Now, it seems, congress takes it upon itself to deny people their rights. This is very sad.

The rotunda!

After the capitol, we went to the beautiful Library of Congress and walked past the Supreme Court. Washington is full of seriously epic buildings.

On Tuesday, we went to Arlington National Cemetery, and a weird thing happened. I am seriously going to remember this for the rest of my life and tell it to everyone and always feel...weird about it. On our way to Arlington on the Metro, we saw a young man in his shiny Navy whites. He was in seriously pristine condition all around. He didn't sit or touch anything on the Metro because it is dirty and he was so impeccably dressed, haha. I noticed that he was pretty new to the service because he only had like one or two decorations on his uniform. [Disclaimer: I don't know anything about military ranks or uniforms or medals or seriously anything. I don't know what to call him and so I will just say sailor and hope that that is not super offensive.] I hoped that his name tag would say his rank on it, but apparently in the military you can tell ranks by what uniforms look like, so that's not necessary. It just had his last name on it. It was an unusual last name, and so I committed it to memory for no reason other than that I'm creepy. He got off at the Pentagon to do some important Pentagon-y business. He was probably barely older than I am. An hour or so later, as we're walking from the Kennedy grave sites to the Tomb of the Unknowns, I saw a giant headstone with that same sailor's last name on it in huge letters. I'm comfortable assuming they're related. But what are the odds of that? That I'd see that sailor on the train, notice his name, then happen on the tomb of his veteran relative at Arlington?

I think we're all aware that I have a lot of conflicting feelings about the military in general. I don't want us to ever have to go to war, but I understand that we've made that a necessary component of global society. And even when we're fighting wars we shouldn't be fighting, brave Americans have to go and do that fighting. San Diego has a large military population surrounding our bases, but it's not like we're a "military town" in any sense that I feel. I have one friend from high school (that I'm aware of) currently serving in the Navy, and I am so proud of him for that. [When I saw this kid on the train, I immediately thought of Jake.] But I almost don't make the connection that these two men in their crisp uniforms are those same men [and women] on the ground in Afghanistan. There's really a cognitive leap there, for me.

And so I'm one of those people who doesn't support wars but supports troops. What does that even mean? I didn't support the troops who got to Baghdad and shot at Qur'ans and baptized each other in the fountains in Saddam's palace. I didn't support the troops who killed innocent families in their homes. But I support Jake and I support this young sailor for being a part of a tradition in their families and courageously protecting their country. I really, truly, support that.

The Tomb of the Unknowns was a really beautiful experience. It was like 95 degrees out and these beautiful soldiers were clicking along their 21 steps and waiting their 21 seconds without a hitch. And the changing of the guards was so impressive -- all three soldiers involved were very impressive. They were covered in medals and all sorts of things. [Again, the disclaimer.] It should also be noted that no one gets like, relegated to guard the Tomb of the Unknowns. It is a prestigious assignment, of which you can tell they are very proud. 

After Arlington we went to the Thomas Jefferson memorial, which is so perfect. Thomas Jefferson was a rad, dude, guys. He wrote some of the most important words in the history of our nation. He wrote the Declaration of Independence! No big deal. He wrote about those truths that we find to be self-evident. And about liberty and responsibility and knowledge...he's a "founding father" I think we should all get behind. 

Being in Washington was a confusing experience on the whole, though. My two great passions in this world are religion and politics. My undergraduate degree is in Religion, and I'm in the process of a Masters degree in the same vein. So you know where I spend most of my time. Politics has become really just a hobby and conversation topic and a blog topic. And I watch CNN and MSNBC like it's my J-O-B. But walking down the streets of our nation's capitol felt almost like a taste of another life. If I'd studied politics in college instead...would I be in Washington, now? Would I be a grad intern in some giant Department of Something building? Would it be me sweating to death (and in heels!) on the Metro?

I would never say that I am dissatisfied with where I am, academically, right now. Studying in Berkeley is so wonderful. But a part of me that I didn't even know was laying low came ALIVE this week. And I have to honor that. I have to figure out a way to feed that. I have to figure out a way to get there.

Turpins take DC, day one.

We're finally in the District! It is so fun to be here with my mom and my aunt Pam and cousin Amanda and my friend Fletcher, seeing all the sights and sites and eating all the amazing food and laughing and laughing and laughing. First laugh -- this is the complimentary companion goldfish that our hotel supplied us with. His name is AJ, like Aj Macnearney, fictional President Andrew Shephard's chief of staff in the best movie ever, The American President. So, here's AJ.

Today we saw like 9 billion amazing places in DC but I took most of my pictures on my real camera and those will not be uploaded until I get home. We went on a boat tour on the Potomac, and then dinner at the fabulously senatorial Old Ebbitt Grill (where I forgot my wallet [and therefore ID] and had to take a cab back to the hotel to get it and get back in order to be able to have a glass of wine at dinner hahaha), and then we went on a tour of the West Wing of the White House! Amanda, as a staffer, gets to take people on tours of the West Wing, which is probably the coolest job perk of all time. Standing in the doorway of the Oval Office, knowing that my dearest President Barack Obama spends a lot of time in it....breathtaking. And standing in the White House Rose Garden and staring down the corridor that he walks down every day...from the residence to his office. And every image of Barack Obama and George W. Bush and Jed Bartlet and Andrew Shephard walking down that hallway...I love America. I love American politics. This election season is going to be ludicrous, but I know how I'm going to survive it. Every time someone says something crazy and hurtful and slings mud at my candidate, I'm going to remember that hallway. Oh, I'm going to remember that hallway.

The World War II Memorial 

The Lincoln Memorial

The view from the Lincoln Memorial is of the Reflecting Pool and the Washington Monument. You've seen a lot of movies and TV shows where the characters sit up on those steps and look out over DC and talk about whatever feat they accomplished that day. I blogged once about wanting to live in DC so I could do that. I don't live in DC, but I sat there with my family and looked and loved it. And besides West Wing characters and Bones characters, you know who else spent some quality time there? The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. And you know why that's super important to me? Because when I was a kid, my liberal Mama taught me about Dr. King, and I told her that I wanted to be a Rev. Dr. because MLK was a Rev. Dr. and I wanted to know what he knew so I could do what he did. I was like, 8. And you know what? Yesterday, I emailed in my last final to complete my first year of seminary. That's the Rev. part. I'm on my way, Dr. King.