Here’s the second of my four DC roommates!
Cynthia Ribas-Santos is the greatest Brazilian I’ve ever met, and there’s no need to roll your r’s when you say her last name. She’s from LA, has a season pass to Disneyland and loves her Alice in Wonderland teapot she left at home.
Cynthia has a huge heart for the homeless, which is why she’s interning at Street Sense. You should check the site out because she’s worked super hard and written some rockin’ stuff.
Basically, I love Cynch. Even if she thinks Disneyland is the real world.
Upon my arrival to Washington, D.C., I was blessed with four fabulous roommates. Here is one of them.
Born Samantha Bender, she is the most rockin’ Pennsylvanian I have ever met, OK maybe other than Joy Ike. She has a better camera than me, loves Harry Potter, and fakes a good southern drawl. The two of us plus Cynthia — whom you will meet later — share a bedroom, and Sam has dubbed me “Titsy.”
Long story short, she’s pretty awesome.
P.S.: You’ll learn about the other three roomskies shortly. Promise!
What was the last purchase I made before leaving for DC? New shoes, of course. Brown lace-up ankle boots to be exact. Other than being enthralled by the price — a little under $5, thank you eBay — I was surprised to receive them just in time to throw them into my already overweight, overstuffed bag.
Finally, the time came to wear them. You see, these weren’t just new shoes. I’m really a tennis shoe or flats kind of girl. I don’t really push limits when it comes to my footwear. But, new city means new kinds of risks! So, I threw them on and was so happy when my shoe doubts were dashed when my wonderful roommate exclaimed, “I want your shoes! Jealous.”
Just the thing I needed to hear.
Strange but wonderful how something as small as pulling off a pair of new shoes can boost your day and make you think of faraway friends — you know who you are, darlings.
Without further ado, here are my new stomps up close.
PS: I promise more DC news is coming. It might be time for you to meet the roomskies…
Strangely enough my first few days in Washington, DC, have affected me more in the way I see myself than in the way I see the world. Yes, this is a big, powerful, busy place which is much different from the ambling attitudes of the people from my Tennessee hometown. However, this bustling little district has shown me what I truly am — a Southerner.
You would think being born and raised in the southeast portion of the United States would be enough to convince me of my identity. But apparently it was not.
It has taken four roommates — two Californians, an Oregonian and a Pennsylvanian — to reveal to me my truly Southern qualities.
It all began with one little phrase — “Bless your pea-pickin’ heart.” After having a discussion of the true meaning of this pseudo-compliment, I began to wrack my brain for other Southern-isms revealing to myself my love of all, OK maybe just most, things Dixie.
I was once again struck with the longing for my “homeland” when I caught a whiff of fried cornbread and green beans while serving at the local Crisis Pregnancy Center. I immediately asked the lovely lady who was enjoying this heavenly scented lunch where I could find such a meal in the District. She replied, “A place just across the street.”
So now, when my slight Tennessee accent causes people new in my life to ask me where I am from, I don’t cringe. Instead I smile, reply and remind myself that the South does not necessarily equate with hillbillies or farming but can actually be quite charming.
I leave you with this lovely picture of my favorite Southern find from my family's annual vacation to the Redneck Riviera.