my hands smell like oranges

And oranges smell like Vitamin C.
Vitamin C, in turn, smells like "uh oh, Chery's getting sick."

Sitting in the VDC undergraduate lounge yet again, sitting on my foot, thinking about the foods I eat and how I could write a twenty-five minute long paper about this, in French, in 13 hours.

Me: I just want to blog.
J: You would.

So I finished my orange and blogged. I want to blog and I have been wanting to. therefore I need to, in a way. Before these words get backed up and I have to call a plumber, or before they shoot out of my fingertips like bullets from a loaded gun.

I recently found out that I'm not the only person in this wide universe who uses the "drafts" function in their cellular to keep track of running thoughts and creative strings of words. In his case he wrote a couple of stanzas of spoken word poetry, in my case I listed things I want(ed) to blog about. He read me his poem and I wondered if I could do this, like he said, just a thought. But I don't have time right now, what I have time for is to attend to the list on draft #35 of my cellular phone.

Right now though, my thoughts circle around Alternative Spring Break. It's a program that sends you to a particular destination, and so, instead of going home for spring break, you are sent there under a specific topic headline and you are given the task of learning more about that topic and giving back to your community in some way. The destination I seek is the San Bernardino National Forest, my topic headline being 'Giving Back to the National Forests.'

Hello, National Forests. I would like to be more near you.

My interview was this morning; I showed up early though my sinuses were clogged and I can only imagine that I sounded like some over-exaggerated germ-infested cartoon character. But I did my best. I talked with them, told them about myself (which I am remarkably terrible at doing), discussed what I consider my greatest achievement, all the usual interview questions. I'm not great at interviews. I know this.

After the formal interview was over, we talked about the different programs. The intern organizing the National Forests project was present and we discussed camping and being outdoors. It brought me back to all those hiking trips back in the day, with Girl Scouts or with my family or friends. And Marin Headlands in elementary school, Yosemite in 8th grade, even the camping trip I went on just last summer. The 2nd place Nature Award I got at Camporee...the late nights rubbing your toes together inside three pairs of socks because they still feel like ice. Building fires from scratch, trekking through switchback after switchback til we reach that glorious view, finding banana slugs to kiss. Grilling chicken and staring at our dust-decorated sneakers, everyone focusing in on one another and forgetting that such a thing called "wifi" and "Verizon Wireless" even exist. It's a whole nother planet.

Then it hit me just how much I want this experience. The intern said that one of her fears was how well everyone would get along, thirteen complete strangers in the wilderness, in unfamiliar conditions? It could be a recipe for disaster.

My mind flew to Grey's Anatomy and Meredith saying, "Pick me. Choose me. Love me."

And I thought, when she expressed those fears, how I could quell them. I feel like I could do this. This isn't another answer to the "why are you a great candidate" question, but then again, maybe it is.

I want this. Strangers sound so appealing. One week of ultimate bonding sounds so appealing. One week of being outdoors, of being far away, of giving back, sounds like the ultimate retreat for me, the best vacation possible.

I want this, badly. And the second that I realized just how much I wanted it, another emotion squeezed a spot open next to that desire. And that emotion was fear. Tangible fear that stepped on the toes of my plump desire and said "scoot over, exist less, so if you don't get this, your heart won't break."

I find out next Friday. Thankfully life is busy enough that I won't spend every waking minute thinking about how great of an opportunity this could be.