too late.

Yesterday, at our campus bookstore, I purchased the newest issue of Time, which has President Obama on the cover. I've tried to read it several times, and it's not for my lack of interest in the article, it's my frustration.

And not with our President.

On January 12, there was a 7.0 earthquake in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. This is news to no one. Millions of people lost their homes or, worse, their lives. The people of Haiti are struggling. It is devastating.

But it is not as if their struggle is new. Yes, it is worse, but new? Not even close.

Haiti is a country in poverty. Many of the people that live there own only a one-room shack and cannot feed their children. War has ravaged their country. They are in desperate need of help from those that can.

And all of a sudden, everyone can.

It is moments like these, like the Tsunami in 2004 or Katrina in 2005, that remind me why I work for an organization like the ONE Campaign. Every organization has office politics and kinks that need to be worked out, and I might get frustrated occasionally, but ONE is not waiting until our international brothers and sisters are in dire straits to help them. They are trying to conquer the problem now, jumping in with more force when an earthquake or tsunami happens.

I'm not saying that we shouldn't help places devastated by natural disasters. Of course we should; natural disasters are directly caused by no one and assistance is often necessary. But explain this to me - why is it that during natural disasters, not directly caused by man, people jump out of their seats to help, but when countries are in poverty, which is caused by man, it is so hard to get people to help?

I just wish more people would help those poverty-stricken countries now, instead of later. Later can often be too late.

one a.m.

I'm still in the Student Government office. Nicholas and I are putting some things together for the Walk-Out and Rally that is taking place on February 4th. I also still have loads to do and some of it isn't with me, so will I be sleeping tonight?

Not likely.

I love these nights.

cinnamon latte.

We return.

It is Monday, the text surprises me, as I haven't heard from him or seen him all day.

"Study session tonight?"

I hesitate, remembering that I promised my step-mom that I would actually eat dinner at home, for once. It takes me a minute or two to calculate the time, but I respond with, "What time? I told my family I would have dinner there. If you can wait until 8, then yes."

With an "Ok. Sounds good" the plans are made, and I settle in for the bus ride home, the brief shopping trip to Target, and the final walk from Lincoln to 8th. I tell my parents Nicholas is coming at 8; my step-mom sighs. Dad put the ham in late - dinner might not be ready in time.

It is, and we eat, but I'm anxious to leave - anxious to return to the atmosphere that I felt so at home in.

He orders the same thing, I order differently, and we find a spot further in the back, our previous nook occupied by a schoolmate that neither of us were expecting to see there. Sometimes I feel like Portland is a novelty to people from Vancouver. Portland? What? You mean you actually cross the I-5 Bridge?

It's a different atmosphere tonight, much louder and filled with more people, but something tells me that has more to do with our location in the coffee shop than a difference of evenings. Then again, more people spend Tuesday nights in coffee shops than Saturdays, I'm sure.

We read, take breaks, talk about things that make us think. It's the same type of evening, though the conversations and the readings are different. I let my new glasses get accustomed to my face; watching him turn over and around trying to find a comfortable position on the couch. I chose the armchair for a particular reason; he's a mover, and I was not about to get kicked in the head.

I purchase a cinnamon latte, recommended by another friend, and he chides me. "You'll be up all night," he says. "Don't drink that." I smirk and drink it anyway. "So I'm up all night," I say. "I have a lot to do in very little time."

The evening ends earlier than I would have liked, but the conversations have become more important than the homework, and I think we both knew that we could have talked for hours. Another time, maybe.

He plays a new song on the ride home, we continue our good conversations, and one last turn and a hug later I'm getting out of the car, agreeing to continue going back. It's good for both of us, these evenings. Hopefully it is the beginning of a pattern that gets us through a semester destined to be stressful.

slinging eggs and bacon, with a college eduation.

I purchased Jason Aldean's newest album "Wide Open" today, and acquired a date to his concert in May (Nicole and I will be making a Girl's Night of it, most likely). I've been listening to the album all day, and am enthralled with it, but mostly with the title track. It's about a girl who works in a diner after college and how "Wide Open" her future is.

It's a great song, but seriously. This is what scares me the most about graduating. That I'll be working a dead-end job for the rest of my life, despite my degree and my numerous internships. This is part of the reason I changed my major from Social Science to Public Affairs and decided to stay another year. Public Affairs may not be the most practical degree ever,  but it is certainly more practical than a Social Science degree. At this point it's just a matter of what I'll do with the economy the way it is. Who is going to be hiring Campaign Managers or Student Affairs staff right now? No one, that's who.

I'm not at all ready for this week. I've only got three days of school, because Thursday morning I fly to Washington, DC for the Power 100 Summit with The ONE Campaign. It is most likely the final one I will be attending. It saddens me to say that, because I love ONE and I love my friends there and I love the conference, but if I'm going to stay only one more year and I'm going to try and get the Office of Student Involvement Internship, there is no way I can continue with ONE next year. That's my decision at this point, but it is still tentative.

Mostly I just can't wait to see my people. The four other students that I went to Kenya with this summer will be there, as well as most, if not all, of the ONE staffers that accompanied us. I think that if Tyler is there, my life will be made. I would love to sit and have a conversation with that man. Of all the things I'm excited for, I'm most excited to just be in DC. I love the city so much, and if I plan to go in to campaign work for the long term, DC is where I will end up. Not to mention, my end goal of being on campaigns is to one day be the White House Chief of Staff. Clearly will have to reside in DC for that one.

It's going to be an interesting week. Everything at home is jam-packed in to three days, and then I get to spend four glorious days in the city of my dreams. Can't wait to see how it goes!

Nook and cranny.

Welcome to my weekend. I should be doing homework, but Mason brought my computer over yesterday, and I've been playing with it since. Somewhere in the transfer from computer to computer, I lost about 400 songs, so I'm not real thrilled about that, but it will give me a chance to get to know my iTunes library again, I suppose. And that could be fun.

Yesterday afternoon I received a call from my friend Nicholas, who asked me to be his homework buddy around six. I agreed, for a number of reasons, but mostly because I knew that if I didn't go somewhere and do homework I would spend the evening watching movies - a complete waste of my time and energy, though fun.

When Nicholas picked me up I had no idea where we were going, and sometimes I think he does that to me on purpose. "Somewhere in Portland," he told me when I asked on the phone. This is not actually a legitimate answer, but I accepted it. I trust him.

We arrived at a place called "Coffee Time," on 21st and Irving just outside of the Pearl District. (Side note: Portland is amazing. One day I will live there.) It looks like a hole in the wall; smaller than a Starbucks from the outside, but inside...the further back you walk, the larger it gets. There were at least 50 people in this place, half of them playing chess. Nicholas and I found a nook and settled down for a spell; his apple cider dictating the smell of our space and my keyboard the sound.

The characters in Portland are always to die for, and this was no exception. Some people spend their time in Coffee Time painting, others studying, some selling their wares. Portland is eccentric and beautiful; a place like no other. At this point in my life, though I once desired to move to New York, I have no desire further than to reside somewhere in Portland. If you've never been - you're missing out.

Today I'll get back to the homework. I have a to-do list a page long that I've barely started on, and hopefully I'll be able to accomplish some of it. I wish I owned my own vehicle, though. I'd be back in that nook, absorbing the character of the city with my studies.

"He has less coping skills than I, and I barely have any." "I think that is a fair assessment."

The idea, of course, was to post daily, but I arrived home last night just before midnight and found it more beneficial to shed my clothes and crawl in to bed. Although now I've only got a few minutes before I have to leave the house.

My coffee date with Michelle turned in to a two-hour lunch, part of which we were joined by my friend Nicole for. It was quite possibly the greatest two hours of my last two weeks. We talked about nearly everything. Talking with Michelle is always amazing, of course, but I don't think we've ever just sat there for two hours. I think it was something we both needed.

This weekend I have to write five poems. As much as I'm excited about this Creative Writing class, I am also nervous. Sure, part of it is that I want people to like me and like my writing, but I also am nervous that I won't even like it. Katherine, my professor, has insisted that we stop thinking like that, but I find it to be easier said than done. And also, what is the difference between a poem and prose? I never really have known.

I suppose I should go. I've got a to-do list of things to do today, hopefully ending with sitting in a dark theater watching Legion. I actually am not a big fan of sci-fi movies, but my favourite actress is in it, so we'll see.

"I'm here for coffee if you need." "Yes please."

I hate secrets.

Alright, well that is only partially true. I hate having to keep secrets. I love learning them, and I love spilling them, but don't ask me to keep one, it won't happen.

Case in point: I accidentally learned something about a dear friend today (it is a very exciting and adorable secret, but it was not supposed to be told and sort of just blurted out of someone's mouth) and, uh, told. Not many people, just.....six. Two of whom do not live here. So, don't tell me secrets. Or at least don't tell me exciting ones.

In other news, I purchased my new computer this morning, and then lugged it to the school to put it in the very capable hands of my friend Mason, who is a computer guru. He has offered to clean it up and install new programs for me. I'm itching to get my hands on it, but I have a feeling the wait will be completely worth it. Also, I've heard glorious things about Windows 7, so I can't wait to play with that.

Michelle and I made a coffee date for tomorrow, which I desperately need. I don't even know that we'll talk about anything of importance; I just need to spend time with a good friend.

Nothing really happened today. It was a series of mundane and overly exciting events, and ended with a walk home that re-energised me. (That is the nice thing about having night classes - the bus that drops me close to my house doesn't run after six, so I get a good mile walk in at the end of each day.) I have to draft a project for my Creative Writing class, and I've been putting it off because I have no idea what to do, so I guess I'll finally get down to that. This weekend I really need to buckle down and figure out how to manage my time, or I'm not going to succeed at anything this semester.