reading dutch's triptych on the early morning after his son was born, (also, yay little gram!) i was thinking about my own quiet early mornings lately. in the past couple of months, we've had two 5am saturday cab rides to national. both times, though i wasn't thrilled at having to get in a cab at that ungodly hour - on a saturday, no less - and was also pretty annoyed that the cab company decided not to honor their promise to send a cabbie and left us to our own devices ... both times, i found the trip strangely soothing. there's something about seeing this city in darkness - and quiet, not just after dark, with the college hangers-on stumbling down my street after a long night of drinking. there's something so calming about the victorian facades, no steady wash of headlights running over the bricks - about the monuments lit, and knowing even from a distance that they aren't being swarmed by an unrelenting army of tourists. both of those flights i was going to national to catch at that ridiculous hour were to michigan, not for playful romps with nephews or wine festivals or for vacation. not for those things i love michigan for. the first was for christmas, where i knew i'd hug my brother for the last time until god knows when. the second, to spend the weekend in a cancer wing, reminiscing about college and ignoring the staples in jason's head.

but for the 20 minutes we spent basically alone on the roads of dc, silently gliding past the kennedy center, admiring the inky waters of the potomac, i felt calm and strong. this city has seen tragedy and joy that eclipse my spectrum of either emotion. on those mornings, i could almost feel the strength of this place as we passed the golden statues guarding the memorial bridge. i'm not sure what this year will bring, but i'm sure that a 5am cab ride 9 months from now will offer the same calm. i'm sure i'll stare out the window, allowing my forehead to rest on the cool, dank window, too tired to be concerned with how grimy it is, smiling slightly at the beauty of lincoln's memorial and the dignity of the kennedy center. i'm sure i'll find it comforting, and i'll know everything is going to be alright.

i'm trying

i am a little hesitant to blog about the delightfully normal and bad-news-free weekend we've just enjoyed, fearful that the fates will think i'm taunting them and put me in my place. there was a happy hour full of friends, a saturday with starbucks and shopping, an attempt at grilling that may or may not have nearly caught our house on fire, a trip to the woolly mammoth to see no child, brunch, and a monday holiday that was - for a few hours at least - deliciously warm... breakfast was eaten at a sidewalk cafe, and midday beers were enjoyed at a restaurant where the windows had been thrown open and the fresh warm air tickled the freshly painted toes in my flip flops. until the cold front and the pouring rain, of course. but even walking the few blocks home in the rain, me in my flip flops and b in short sleeves, was done with laughter and smiles. it was a good weekend.

it's been a rough few weeks. and to say i've been in a funk puts all previously claimed funks to shame. but i'm trying to pull myself out. i'm trying to remember that things that affect me often don't involve me. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i cannot fix. i'm trying to remember that there are plenty of problems i should not fix even if i can. and i'm trying to remember that i graduate in less than three months now, have only 12 weeks more to deal with one of the most insufferable people i know and put an end to my long and storied secretarial career. i'm trying to watch more movies, walk with an extra bounce in my step, and notice the buds as they begin to appear on the trees. i'm trying to distract myself with homework, though i know that will surely be short-lived. i'm trying to embrace the fact that 2008 is shaping up to be a year of transition, and that transition isn't always easy.

maybe i should have given up worrying for lent.

this is totally turning into the most depressing blog on the Interwebs.

the last time i voted in person was actually in a primary as well. i've been voting absentee for a half dozen years, clinging to my parents' address - though it wasn't the one at which i grew up - long long past a time when i would have considered living there. it was a primary in the summer of 2002. it was my brother's first voting experience, and we two piled into our parents' 1957 chevy (a beloved prop in our family that has been in my parents' garage for 28 years now) with them and drove with the windows down and the beach boys up to the elementary school assigned to us. i remember it well because it was a scene from much earlier in our childhood, the brother and i, cruising around with our parents in the same cool car listening to the same band ALL THE TIME always with the windows down. and because it happened either right before or right after (that i don't remember) we all learned our family was about to grow exponentially. i remember thinking about it a couple weeks later though, how precious i found that one last car drive before everything changed, when it was just the four of us, and it was simple. it was so simple. because the adoration those four people in that car had for one another then, and still, is unchanged even as the family itself is not.

it's true that i'm emphatically happy with my life, and with - i can say with absolute confidence - every single decision i've made for myself in the six years since. i know that version of me would be thrilled with this version of me. but on this election day, after voting in this primary, with the heaviness on my shoulders of helplessness brought on by four grave situations simultaneously, the worst of which being my desperate brother lying in a hospital bed two timezones away while they scan his brain and back and stick needles in his spine to see if his damaged body is still well enough to be sent to iraq, where his job will be sticking his torso - and soul, in effect - out the top of a hummer with a machine gun ... today, i cannot think of one thing i wouldn't give to find myself back on that primary day instead of this one. i think i would gladly make all those tough decisions again, i'd even go through the torment of law school again, if doing so would replace the hope and joy i remember in his laugh from that day. but alas, though big sisters are good for things like explaining to brothers voting for the first time the difference between a primary and an election, there are apparently some things that sisters cannot make sense of and some pains that sisters cannot heal.

file under: life is not fair

let me just start by saying that whole foods at 9am on a saturday morning is a delight. full of fresh food but not yet yuppies, well-staffed in preparation for the oncoming slew of said yuppies ... i was thinking this even as i realized they did not have any israeli cous cous and the raspberries were approximately $12 a pint. when i reached the beer section, though, things took a turn.

i planted myself into a conversation two employees in that section were having right in front of where my beloved two hearted ale *should* have been waiting for me. 'twas not, dear readers. and since i couldn't find any last weekend either, i was pretty disappointed. i politely waited for their conversation to wane and politely whined that they were again out of my favorite beloved beer, goddammit.

when i asked for it they both grinned. oh we have some two hearted ale. we're just keeping it in the back so only the real fans get it. it was bottled four days ago. it's so fresh, it's like you're AT bell's!

ah, to be enjoying a pint of bell's at bell's ... i literally put down a pint of bell's (perhaps two hearted ale, i don't remember) on the bar at bell's on a cold fall night years ago to greet a couple of college friends with hugs before turning to introduce myself to their handsome pal. i usually can't help but think of the night i met b over a glass of bell's every time i lift a glass ...and it always makes me grin. but as we drank our wildly fresh bell's this weekend, and i saw the concern-induced wrinkles on b's forehead as he consulted with various people on his cell ... i thought of that evening in a totally different light. now those two college friends, also married, are holed up in a hospital room in detroit. he's fighting a rare leukemia after two bouts with cancer in less than a year. he's got a hole in his skull, through which radiation is being pumped with questionable success. one of his best friends, who was the best man at my wedding, is right now en route from ethiopia to detroit, where we'll see him when we fly in this weekend too.

and of course, this particular friend is one who would never harm a fly. he's the least judgmental, most accepting, happy-go-lucky guy. sure, he's got his quirks, but that's bound to happen when someone is happy in their own skin and doesn't really care what other people think. and honestly, i found him a breath of fresh air when we first became friends, back in those days when i was dealing with the loss of all my friends, a group supposedly bound by a lot of ideals none of which jive with acting as if a friend had never existed without even so much as considering listening to her side of a particular story. (the excessive eye-rolling i'm sure many of you have witnessed at any mention of organized christianity? bingo.) but i met this guy and became a part of a group of friends that took me in without hesitation, and had no interest in judging me. he was part of a group of friends from which i learned for the first time what it genuinely means to be someone's friend. for what it's worth, he played a role in making what should have been a crappy time in my life not so awful.

i hope those of us converging in his hospital room this weekend can do the same for both of them - and make an otherwise crappy time in their lives a little less awful.

new hampshire, new hampshire, new hampshire.

what can i say? somewhere belva lockwood is smiling down on us all.

i love you, new hampshire.

is it wrong to scream for ice cream by yourself?

my last first day of classes, a 70 degree day in january, and the fact that my brother left michigan early this morning and i don't know when he's coming back. to those of you that know me well, the fact that i stopped in at ben & jerry's on my walk home today should be no surprise, given those things. and sure, i got frozen yogurt, but when you put chunks of brownies and cookie dough in vanilla frozen yogurt, and then you pack it into a delicious waffle cone ... let's be honest. that yogurt didn't make it better.

so i was walking through dupont circle, starting work on my delicious cone of goodness, and i noticed people were full-on staring at me. i checked my zipper, i made sure i wasn't exposing a nipple. everything was in place. it was the cone. there's something about a person eating ice cream alone, i think. had i been with b or a pal, strolling and eating ice cream, it would have seemed normal. but alone? i couldn't tell if people were a) wildly jealous they hadn't thought to get ice cream on this balmy january day; b) thought that i was a glutenous fat ass who'd need to walk 3 miles today to work that shit off (ha! i'm one step ahead of you people!); or c) thought it looked like i was performing fellatio on that ice cream cone.

whatever. it was delicious.

as a bonus, a text i just got from b, that cracked me up: "on my way blocked by hanna montana." i'm imagining him in a cab, hanna montana in the middle of the street in front of him singing, thousands of tweens running around screaming. also a bit surprising that he knows who hanna montana is.

this year, the title goes to ...

last year, i got a little sentimental over the gift that RK gave me for christmas. it was an awesome gift.

this year though ... i think the title for best gift has got to go to a. now, i know christmas isn't for another week. but whatever. if anyone else can top months of work to produce something this awesome in every way, i will eat my words.

so a big blog shout out to a, who i imagine spent lo a many eves watching reruns of the office (damn strike) and trying to decide if she/we are over grey's anatomy (verdict is still out) while churning out this bad boy.

on a related note, this is the first year that the two of us have ever gotten both our christmas presents to one another on time - let alone within a month. kudos to us.

just stop it already

alright, mainstream media. enough.

this means you, today show, world news with charles gibson, nbc nightly news with brian williams. all of y'all.

listen.

i am currently enjoying a very successful and fruitful relationship with my friend Denial over the fact that my brother is going to be gone for a whole year on tour in the middle east. his little boys - you see, i am so close with Denial that i'm not even going to tell you how those kids are going to react to him being gone. i'm going to get a piece of cheese out of the refrigerator instead of telling you.

mmm. cheese.

so as i was saying, you seem to be really interested in driving a wedge between Denial and i. why you gotta play Denial like that? you're constantly showing these goddamn videos every single day of fathers coming home from war - all in their fatigues with shaved heads looking like my bro - to surprise their kids at school. or at the mall. or on a school trip to the mall. tonight two little kids unwrapped a big box they thought was from their dad in iraq, but actually was their dad from iraq.

for the love of.... will you please stop with these things? puh-lease.

whatareyoutryingtoprove?! stop it. stop making my heart come up through my throat like a rocket, and the tears come to my eyes so fast i think i might start spraying tears freakishly at a 90-degree angle from my face instead of just allowing them to leisurely drip down my cheek.

if i have to see one more 5-year-old boy shreik daddy while they're leaping into the arms of a father that looks just like a father i know, i'm going to have to break up with Denial. or put a remote through the new tv. and then b would break up with me. see, no one wins here.

stop it.

je suis une fille formidable

i'm allowing myself to be a little sentimental today, a little appreciative of the way things are. wait, that's not accurate. i'm allowing myself to blog about it is all. it's been six weeks now since we've moved into the city, from the burbs of arlington into adams morgan, from a high-rise to an english basement, from corporate landlords to a nice gay couple who are, themselves, just getting settled into this big old house. my commute used to be a walk across the street to the metro; now, i walk for 35 minutes to school and from school. i'm outside about 75 times more now than i was before, walking, soaking in sunlight and endorphines that are significantly affecting my mood, and my affection for this city and her quietly dignified neighborhoods is growing by the day.

in six weeks, i haven't stopped grinning to myself when i cross new hampshire and look at the fountain at dupont circle down the block, or when i pass the building where i used to work as a receptionist for an architecture firm when we first moved here. when i cross k, i usually slow up a little in the middle of the street, stretching my neck for a glimpse of the office that is just waiting for me to wrap up this whole law school thing and pass the bar already. i breathe in fresh air every day, to and from work.

i've tried before to write about how this move has changed me, has changed my feelings about washington. about how i feel like i've been a fraud all these years, telling people back home i live in dc. i didn't live in dc. this side of the potomac and that side feel completely different. and i'm a little ashamed it took us so long to get here.

i can see the washington monument down 18th on those days i do choose to wait for the bus. i don't have congressional representation. and my driver's license finally does not say michigan. this is officially home.

and i was feeling especially sentimental, brimming over even, as i snapped shut my phone walking past the world bank, away from my last fall semester, having called to announce to b that i was triumphant ... that against all odds i'd managed to write a solid antitrust exam ... that i won't be failing any classes, not this semester. i crossed pennsylvania, dusk closing in around me, smiling like a damn fool ... and i knew today would be the day i might be able to explain how much happier i am now living in the city.

i had considered slipping into circle one bistro, a favorite hotel bar near campus, the location of my bachelorette party, a surprise party for b, and many a happy hour through the years. but i thought it would be better to stop in someplace new, reward myself for being thisclose to finishing law school with a new spot. (and obviously i was stopping for a drink. because somehow drinking at a bar alone at 5:15 on a wednesday is way better than coming home and uncorking a bottle of two buck chuck alone at 5:15 on a wednesday. obviously.) so i grabbed a fresh copy of the onion, and snuck into this cute little italian place on connecticut, just north of dupont circle, called tomate or something. it's a little place, the first floor almost all windows, and coming to a point to fit snugly on the little piece of real estate it inhabits. i've always thought it was adorable, but we've never gone. so in i went.

i settled in at the end of the bar, facing the church of scientology across the street, all decked out for christmas. (scientologists celebrate christmas? who knew?) (also, they seem to be okay with smoking. either that, or the constant presence of two or three smokers on the balcony above the entry to the mansion were keeping an eye out, and the smoking was a cover. maybe they're actually watching for a space ship that could at any moment swoop down for them. obviously, my knowledge of scientology is impressive, and not at all marred by pop culture's satire of it.) i ordered a bellini - peach schnopps and champagne, because what else does a self-respecting girl drink at 5:30 on a wednesday night, alone. i cracked open the onion (btw - who knew that i own and love 4 of the top 7 albums of the year as dictated by the onion's AV club. i am so much cooler than i give myself credit for). and i took a nice deep breath. i watched a little soccer, eavesdropped on some conversations, and ordered a little snacky snack. and another glass of champagne. i inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, allowed myself the small luxury of being one more round of classes from the end of this chapter. i felt a little like i was reading ahead in a book, like i stopped suddenly on page 150, looked around to see if anyone was watching, gingerly flipped to page 250 ... and just read a couple of paragraphs. i liked it.

for the record, i didn't ask the bartender to top off my glass of champagne as i neared the end, nor did i buy the excuse he gave as he grinned and winked that he just needed to finish off the bottle. i did, however, tip accordingly.

as i walked up connecticut, home, with the evening breeze just cool enough to soothe the hint of champagne-induced throbbing in my forehead, i passed an art gallery with photography blanketing the front window. one of the photographs was of a sign that read, je suis une fille formidable. je SUIS une fille formidable!, i thought. je SUIS! je suis une fille formidable qui:

1. really wanted a cigarette;

2. is officially in her last semester of law school; and

3. had to go the dry cleaners drunk on champagne. at 6:30 on a wednesday night.

fantastique.

we all just need to REMAIN CALM - updated

something is not right, here in the metro dc area today. and i don't know what or who is behind it. terrorists? some super virus? alien invasion? satanic possession? i don't have the answers, people. but i know we should all be afraid.

if i hadn't seen the terror with my own eyes, i wouldn't have believed it either, friends. seriously. and what scares me the most is that it's happening in everyday work places - academia, government contractors. where will it strike next? WHERE GOD WHERE?

people are wearing velour sweatsuits to work today.

i know it's scary. i know, i'm scared too. two cases have been confirmed, one with photographic evidence (picture NSFW*), so you know exactly what to look for. what we need here is to be vigilant, people. we need to track this ... this ... whatever in god's name it is that has resulted in people wearing velour sweatsuits to work ... with the utmost precision. i'm about to call DHS. i have grave suspicions that the terrorists have either (1) affected the brains of certain of our coworkers, with an eye to manipulate them into some awful covert act, which they are testing by first seeing if they are willing to commit the horrendous act of wearing a velour sweatsuit to work; or (2) are trying to sabotage the american workforce by grinding productivity to a screeching halt as we all try to figure out why the fuck our coworkers are wearing velour sweatsuits to work.

do you have a coworker wearing a velour sweatsuit to work today? if so, it's your duty as an american to post a comment and email me photographic evidence if possible. we need to stop this thing, people. freedom, liberty, our whole way of life could be at stake here.

god bless.

UPDATE:



upstanding american SJ has done his duty. he has bravely sought and submitted more evidence of the growing epidemic.



you're truly a hero, SJ. i salute you.









*not NSFW in that way, you pervs. if you want to see random nipples, go to the superficial or something.