Cherry Trees Blossoming on March 27, 2011

I missed the pho train this weekend. It was going to the usual Pho Viet place on 14th but it was embarking at 1130 am and I think there is a rule somewhere, if not in my head only, that lunch should not be eaten before noon. So stayed in bed until noon and left hoping to try out a different pho place in Adams Morgan that may or may not exist. But, like most other times when I leave my house, I didn't make it there.

I was on Columbia Road headed towards the AdMo and, per usual, there was a little market of Hispanic people selling food that smelled so good I could not walk on by without at least taking a look at the source of the smells. While money may be the fast track to my heart, ladies, free samples is the slow track. And the guy at the Puerto Rican tent now has a leg up on all of you. "Here try this delicious, slow-roasted pork regardless of the fact you are trying not to add to the demand curve of the meat industry," he said in so many words. "OK." Sold. I worked with a girl from Puerto Rico last year for about six months and she used to rave about mofongo and, me being me and her telling me it contained plantains, I told her it was probably terrible and would never try it. Well, it was pretty good, but don't tell her I said that.

So I never made it to the pho place and ate the plus/minus five pounds of food right there, all the while ignoring goals of not becoming a fat person and boycotting the animal torturing industry. But, whatever, if jesus didn't want me eating meat he wouldn't make it smell so good, right? Wrong. I'm just weak.

Have you ever walked on Lanier Place in Mt. Pleasant NW DC? You should. There are adorable little town houses with trees lining the road and an apartment building at the end of it that looks like this (I hope you're reading this on an Ipad to rotate it because that is not how it is oriented in real life)

because that's the actual building. It is the kind of street in DC that could make you forget that even though you live in a seemingly discreet part of town the bars that you thought were neighborhood bars are actually the types of places that people take cabs to and make crowded to the point of standing room only on a Friday night at 730. You know, the kind of street that gives you hope that DC is not merely a city where everyone follows everyone because they think that is where the epicenter of cool is but because it's familiar and comfortable and convenient. The type of street where people aren't so bored they appropriate causes or react disproportionately (see picture 1 below) to those they do stand for, but whose lives are driven by values and causes ingrained organically (see picture 2 below--both taken within a couple blocks of each other in Columbia Heights).

1: (don't get me wrong, DC Congressional representation is a legit issue, just not Egypt legit)

 

2: (the person on the bottom is holding a sign that says "Immigrant Rights")

What should be the next city I visit/scope out for future habitation?

Anyway, the National Cherry Blossom Festival started this weekend. Looking at trees is just about my perfect description of a Sunday, so I get on the metro and head downtown as if I am going to work since I work right off the Tidal Basin, around which are the cherry blossoms.

Now here is the type of situation for which I live:

Again, I am on the metro on the way down and it is quite crowded because nothing says DC is the national tourist/legislative capital like hoards of people going to look at trees that were a gift from our friends in Japan. Return the favor. There are these early twenties preppy ladies talking as if the metro car were their soapbox about how they will never just throw their kids to the electronics to occupy them or keep them quiet. They are standing right next to me and, truthfully, the food was about to zonk me out so I got a coffee from my home away from home/current location, Tynan, before I got on the metro and I'm duly caffeinated. So I interject, "I feel I must interjet here." They didn't get the Postal Service reference. "Don't you think this conversation would fit wonderfully with music scored in the background like in a movie." Well, either they didn't hear me or they chose to ignore me (probably the latter as usual) but they responded by saying, "I like your shoes." Yea you do because they're awesome, but that's not the point. Interestingly enough, though, it was my dad's idea to buy these shoes but I stole the idea from him because I needed new shoes and found them first and who says a 60 year old man can't non-ironically influence the fashion of a 25 year old? But that's not the point either. The point is they won the irrelevant statement game so I turned back to the window in defeat. Meanwhile there was an adorable baby crying a few seats ahead and it cried until its father gave it his Iphone. CLASSIC. I loved that moment like it was my own child, except I don't know how I would feel about a child of mine or how I would parent it because no one has been lucky enough to let me impregnate them and subsequently father the child. 

So, now I am down on the Tidal Basin just hanging out because there aren't any events for the festival going on yet. Here is the view from the basin of my work building:

And here is me under the blossoms eating this pretty girl's food that I met down here:

So a kid comes up and sits next to me and, naturally because I am good with the kids, I ask him what he's thinking. He says "I don't know" and throws some sticks at the ducks in the water. If I didn't just eat some dead pig I would have been perturbed by this, but I just said, "touche, child" and walked away because he was boring me. Then I walked past these tween girls that were like, "This is like really lame. Why do all these people care about trees that are doing what like every other tree in the world does in the spring?" And I agreed. Then I interjected because coffee lowers inhibitions and said, "Don't you think this conversation would be so much better if there were music in the background like in a movie?" They chuckled and I walked away because girls of every age make me uncomfortable.

Still lacking drama in my life, I take the bus home. This time we had drama. Finally. One guy gets on and is obviously drunk and is annoying people so this girl kind of says so to him. He didn't take kindly to that and repeated until he got off the bus many stops later, "What is that word for people that get up in other peoples' business?" This really happened and went unanswered the whole time. The answer is nosy btw. Then at another stop there's this one guy who says, "If anyone tries to get on before these ladies, I will punch you in the face!" This really happened, too. Is it wrong of me that I kind of wanted to see someone make him prove it? Yes. The answer is yes that is bad that you want to see someone get potentially punched in the face. Then when he was on the bus he was sweet-talking all the ladies, even going so far as to cleaning one's shoes. So I ask the elderly woman next to me, "Wouldn't it be great if there were music playing in the background this whole time like in a movie?" She said, "O which song?" No, lady, you're not supposed to say anything. You're supposed to look at me like I'm crazy. "Um, The Cold War Kids." Which I say because I just saw them in concert the night before. (Now there is no denying their talent but, like some other bands and what makes me dislike live music, they seemed as if being on stage was their job not their passion. I don't know enough about the economics of a touring band, but this band pretty much just played their songs--again, quite well--but did not interact with each other or the crowd much to convince me they inherently enjoyed playing live and were not just playing because that is what is required of a band to make a living of it. I mean they threw in, "DC, you are the best place to play," which I know is a lie because I've been to Portland I know playing there has to be better than playing in DC, but not much more than that. Maybe art shouldn't be used to make a financial living.) Anyway, the lady said, "I don't know them." "Ha, yea I would be surprised if you had." And I want this conversation to end because ladies of all ages make me uncomfortable. 

Can you believe VCU and Butler are going to the Final Four?! Madness. 

March SXSW Weekend 2011

I had to change the name. Limiting my adventures to just Sunday was just silly. Too much pressure to make especially Sundays fulfilling. So its about the whole weekend now pretty much as it has been the entire time, just more words in the title.

Well I didn't think this one through.

I never think about planning around the NCAA tournament when I really love it more than most things in life. Like that one time when I studied abroad in the spring of 2006 and missed the craziest tournament in history. Lucky for me that turned out all right because I had pretty much the best time of not only my life but pretty much anyone else who has ever lived. Fact. I lack the ability to delay gratification so I went and just had a lifetime's worth of fun in 5 months time. But it was worth it.

Anyway. This weekend missing the tournament was worth it too. Once I got this job in DC and had a steady income I started thinking about where I might live in the future because that is what I do. I can't sit still in life and along with lacking the ability to delay gratification (you know like that psychology experiment with the kids and the marshmallows. No? Here it is. Maybe I could have scored better on the SAT.) I also lack the ability to accept security and contentedness. I blame that semester abroad.

I went to Austin for SXSW this weekend. Or at least one day because awhile ago I added it to a list of places that might be fun to live based on what other cool people have to say about it. And way back then I found out when SXSW was because I also thought that might be fun to attend. So I planned this weekend long before I realized the best weekend in sports also coincided with it.

So on St. Patrick's Day I fly from Baltimore to Austin sleeping literally every minute of the flights because I can and you know it because you are probably only reading this hoping I fail at overcoming my sleep ability and don't leave the house on the weekend. I would too. So I get there and my aunt and uncle who got me this job in DC regardless of how much they tell you I did it on my own pick me up from the airport. We are staying like right off of the other UT's campus so we eat on what would be this UT's equivalent of The UT's The Strip at a place way cooler than anywhere at The UT called The Hole in the Wall. They have legitimate chefs in their kitchen so I consume one of the best burgers I have ever had without being even slightly hyperbolic. It's SXSW so there is music--81 bands in 4 days at this place to be exact--and we see two: Lost Brothers and Sweet Jane, both of which are delightful.

The Strokes were playing a free concert that night so we headed down to the river to check it out. I was skeptical because I am a music snob, but it was awesome. I have never been to a real concert with more than like 100 people before so this was different (this article says maybe 25000 people). Fireworks over the river followed, which were also surprisingly impressive. I lacked a childhood so have never been impressed by fireworks.

Then we made it up to 6th St. where all the Mardi Gras-like craziness is and we bounced around drinking and listening to random bands until we ended up at a microbrewery after having a polacko taco (sausage in a tortilla) at an electro-laptop music stage where we landed by accident.

We move on and find a pizza place next to 512 where one of my current favorite bands, Toro y Moi,  is playing. Normally you need a SXSW wristband or pay a cover but its 130am so its free. Do you watch the hit NBC comedy Parks and Recreation? You should. The band is from South Carolina and so is Aziz Ansari, from Parks and Recreation, so he's there, natually. Here's proof (whoop there it is; my aunt with Aziz Ansari):

Austin is incredibly undersourced for this many people cab-wise and three hours later we're back at the hotel.

SXSW is just as crazy during the day so we don't stay long on Friday after driving around for like one hour looking for parking and head back to Boerne, TX. (We watched Tennessee's demolition before this but that will be hereafter unmentioned.) My aunt and uncle got really lucky after moving from DC to find a group of bar regulars like on Cheers at this place called the Dodging Duck where everyone is incredibly nice, we get free beer, and the people say things like, "So and so, who is now deceased, unfortunately." And I am thinking this is how life should be and that I hope I am the deceased so I don't outlive my friends. Or do I want to be able to be all wise-like and say things like "Franklin, who is deceased, unfortunately"? I don't think I have a say in these types of things. 

So my uncle and I end up staying up till like 330 chewing the fat, drinking the growlers we got filled there and consequently we wake up at 130 the next day. It was Tejano day in San Antonio, which means a lot of Mexican-Texans congregating in Market Square listening to Tejano music (for which they have a Grammy award and the winner was performing there) with lots of taco-like food. We get gigantic deep-fried turkey legs and I make it official by getting a pig intestine taco and a plate of regular tacos too. Then we stop at a couple more places in San Antonio, including another microbrewery at which we fill up another growler, which my uncle and I drink staying up till 3 chewing the fat again.

I have never had chicken-fried steak so we go to a hole in the wall place in Bulverde, TX where the cook has american flag MC Hammer pants, NASCAR is on the tv and there are things posted that describe Barry Obama as a "post turtle" (someone that doesn't know how he got there, doesn't belong there, and was put there by a bunch of dumbasses. Fucking Texas.). So I consume a virtually 14 pound chicken-fried steak and I decide not to eat for the next week in hopes that my pants will fit again. Then we stop at brewpub three of three in the San Antonio area and head back to the house to sit down and relax for the first time in three days. After another excellent dinner my aunt and uncle and I stay up till 2 waxing regular about DC past, present, and future as they lived here for 30 something years.

Then they pack me some classic Texas BBQ sandwiches for the road and I get on the plane back to reality. Unfortunately. But not for my cholesterol.

Austin is fun but not the type of fun that I think I could call my home if I am still trying to find a place to live after DC. But, let's be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing in life and will probably be here forever, which is not necessarily a bad thing. But goal number one is finding a sugarmomma and wherever she takes me I will follow. But I played my odds here. What, did you think I ended up here merely because DC has like the best job market in the country and this is where I found a job? Hardly.

March 13, 2011

I don't know why we still do this whole daylight savings time thing. Normally I would look up why it all started so I can come to the conclusion that if it stayed lighter later in the day that would be better than more light earlier in the day regardless of the facts because the former is what I prefer, but I'm too tired to do that. And I blame DST for that because I am never this tired on Mondays.

But let me tell you about Sunday March 13, 2011.

I honestly thought about going to church.

But I didn't.

I haven't gone to church on my own accord since my senior year of high school and even that wasn't really church but a youth group that met at a church. Now the closest thing I come to church is the actual thing every Christmas Eve.

Anyway, the National Cathedral was next up on the subject of this blog's docket. And I was thinking "well if I am going to a church on a Sunday maybe I should just go for a service to get the full experience." I proed and conned it for a second and cons won. Pro didn't stand a chance though. I cannot tell you how irrationally I dislike tucking in my shirt and I have to do that four days a week at work (thank god for casual Fridays--maybe I would have had I gone to church). And I try to do the most I possibly can to not draw attention to myself so there was no way I was being that guy at church that's like "jesus loves you regardless of what you wear" while everyone else is like "Jesus would love you more by dressing up to church. Heck, even poor people find nice clothes to wear to the house of god. You don't look poor. You know what? I am going to judge you on behalf of jesus with a glance that lasts a millisecond longer than is comfortable for you." Yea I'm not being that guy wearing jeans and a t-shirt at a service at the National Cathedral.

Let's also thank god for the Circulator. It gets you where you want to go in the city for a dollar. And my feelings of self-worth increase every time I act like I know my way around this city, especially by bus. So I get on the Circulator at 14th and Columbia and head towards Woodley Park.

Have you ever seen the pandas at the zoo here or pandas at all in real life? If you answered no, you're wrong. You need to rearrange your schedule a little to get to a place and go see a panda. I love animals more than I hate tucking in my shirt but I am pretty sure most people would have at least half a good time watching a panda bear eat bamboo as I did and that would mean it would make like the top 10 of greatest things you have ever seen in life because it certainly is in my top 5. (Just there I tried to think of something better that I have seen in life and I couldn't think of one.) Do yourself a favor and get to a zoo and watch a panda be a panda, which includes sitting splayed out surrounded by bamboo and stuffing its face as if it has opposable thumbs but really it just has a dexterous wrist (I heard somewhere that had dolphins been evolutionarily blessed with opposable thumbs they would be smarter than humans). Yea, I don't have much to say for myself in life but I can say that people should see pandas.

Anyway, the zoo in DC is in Woodley Park and that is where you get off to walk to the National Cathedral and that is what I was getting at. So I get off the bus and since it's a nice day weatherwise people are out and about. There is a guy walking around with two different shoes on and a bird on his shoulder. There are people holding hands ambiguous enough that they could be lovers or father-daughter (but not both because that's illegal). There is a child laughing, which is a lot like watching a panda eat bamboo. There is a man playing a violin and singing a song that goes:

sometimes the wind will blow you in
without regard for where you land
strong gusts often come about
exposing new light behind the clouds
brace by leaning this way and that
trying not to topple from its wrath
but as wrath it does not qualify
for wind allows the kites to fly

Or something like that.

So I get to the cathedral eventually and its imposing. How do I begin to pass the time here? As I am just standing there staring at this structure thinking how unfair it is that I will never possess anything as architecturally stunning as this, a guy stands at my side and says, "They just don't make them like this anymore, huh?" I'm thinking that might be a fitting statement for a car but it's pretty inadequate in this instance. "Well," he says, "it was actually completed only 20 years ago." "Seriously?" "Yea, construction began at the beginning of the twentieth century but the last stone wasn't laid until 1990." I'm feeling a little better about humanity. "Geez, I was under the impression everything built in the last 50 years was built with cost minimization as the primary goal." "Yea, but who could argue with a clear conscience that a building whose sole purpose is exhibiting reverence to god isn't worth a little splurging." His shirt is tucked in. "Good point. But what about the humanists? Can we not at least a little consider public buildings a reverence to humanity then and impose some guilt on the public for skimping on those nowadays?" "That seems a little idealist and ignorant of public finance, but in support of that you do see a trend in angular, open glass edifices that could be interpreted as a sufficient testament to the transparency that is required of legitimate public affairs." "Yea I guess so. But it just seems so much more effort and artistic ability is required in the construction of something like this and it is the lack of effort and artistic talent that is a shame is missing. But really gothic architecture is probably more aesthetically appealing to me than any other, except maybe Tudor, but I've a pretty base knowledge of architecture." "That's obvious."

Yea that didn't happen.  I don't talk to strangers in real life.

Are you familiar with the National Collegiate Athletic Association Division I Basketball Tournament?

Yea, I didn't leave the house yesterday except to get a coffee from a place like two blocks away. And that in addition to all the immediate and requisite research to fill out my perfect bracket is probably why I am so tired today.

But seriously, it just seems so antiquated to move your clocks back and forth yearly. I don't know anyone that likes turning back the clocks so let's be democratic here and just keep them "ahead" forever. Light is right. 

March 6, 2011

Happy Birthday Peter Lewis. I hope the weather was much better in Knoxville than it was in DC. It was pouring rain. So I figured this was great weather to go to the Holocaust Museum. I just don't think it would be right to be distracted in the museum thinking about how nice the weather is outside while reading about a systematic annihilation of a people. Pouring rain eliminates that distraction.

And this should go to show how serious I am about actually leaving the house now as it was perfect sleeping weather too. I may have slept in a little later than is ideal (noon) but upon waking up I remembered the Tennessee-Kentucky game was on. We lost and you would never know that Bruce Pearl was on the sidelines given the lack of discipline and intensity in the second half. Whatever. We beat Pitt and Villanova on the road. And nobody wants to go to the Holocaust museum in a good mood anyway.

I lack drama in my life so I decided to take the bus down 14th street to the museum rather than the metro. But it was uneventful. Nothing is going my way, which is pretty much ideal for visiting the Holocaust Museum I think. But seriously, what are so many people doing out on a Sunday in pouring rain no less? I can't even imagine what it would be like on a nice day.

So I basically have two offices where I work--one in College Park, MD at the office of the contractor for the project I work on at the Treasury, and the other at the Financial Management Service building at the end of 14th St. SW before you hit Virginia. When I started working there about a year and a half ago the first thing I noticed about the Holocaust Museum, which is two buildings up from the FMS building, is the sign for the exhibition "State of Deception: The Power of Nazi Propaganda," which is a special exhibition, and my first reaction was "Is there really a need for a special exhibition on the power of nazi propaganda because I am pretty sure the fact that this building exists is a strong enough testament to its power?" But that is me being insensitive.

I wish I could say the museum destroyed me from the inside and left me a broken and different human being, but I am nowhere near empathetic enough to be affected that strongly. I don't know if this is an indication of my stoniness or a defense mechanism I (or people in general) developed a long time ago to counter being overwhelmed by the level of banality in the human race, but I felt so completely removed from "the holocaust" that I couldn't comprehend the extent of it as anything more than an isolated event in history with it having no emotional affect on me whatsoever. However, there is a photo of a man kneeling over a mass grave of other victims and there is a soldier standing over him about to shoot him so that he will fall into the grave himself. You can see the acceptance of his fate in his eyes. That made it a little more real to me. Then there is an exhibit between floors that is a collection of shoes from victims and you can smell the leather, which added a unique touch of reality to it that is lacking from a picture of a pile of shoes or the picture there of a pile of hair removed from the women before they enter the gas chamber. But other than that it was hard for me to view something of that magnitude and contemporarily extraordinary as something other than fiction. I am not saying I am denying the Holocaust but rather if it all were a story developed by an author--albeit bewilderingly sinister one--it would affect me similarly. And I envy you if it affects you differently because I don't think I was always like this.

Anyway, I had every intention of going to the Washington Monument (if you had to click on that to see what the Washington Monument is, you're weird) as well since it is right there, but given the fact that it was pouring rain and visibility was 0 it wouldn't make much sense. And I chose to watch the Tennessee game so that eliminated the chance to do two tourist things before 5:30 this Sunday, when they lose. So I went back today (Monday March 7) because that is the effect this blog is having on me. I should not have been doing this at all and should have been up the Washington Monument already in life because I have lived in DC for like 2 years and visited many times when I was younger since my aunt and uncle used to live here, but it was under construction for years and no one could go up, or at least that is what my parents told us. If this is not true, congrats parents that is a brilliant way to avoid the enormous lines and time commitment that go along with a summer time visit of the monument.

So I get there today at 3:30 to finally do what probably most all visitors to DC prioritize early on their trip to see that all tickets have been given out for the day. IT'S A RANDOM MONDAY AFTERNOON IN MARCH. The tourist guide person says you should come at like 8:30 to get tickets for the day.

Fuck it, I never wanted to go up the Washington Monument anyway. And I hear it's something you should do with kids, so I'll just wait till I get one or more of those to do it.  Plus I walk by it pretty frequently on the way to work so its lame to me now. [Add excuses, and excuses, and excuses, etc.]

But really this blog is affecting me on more than just Sundays. For example, on Saturday me and a couple of my roommates were thinking of what to do that night. One suggested a hookah bar and I was like no need to pay for that, I have two of them. And he was like "What, why haven't you brought it out earlier?" "Well I did when I lived and Virginia and you were there once when we used it but yea I have no excuse for not using it in DC yet." But really I was waiting for it to get warmer out to go and get tobacco and coals to fire it up again. The closest place to get these is in Adams Morgan about a mile away. My first instinct is finding out who will drive us there, but then I thought "No, Jeff, you need to get your pants fitting again and get out of the house not just on Sundays." So my one roommate and I decide to walk there in large part because this blog has motivated me to do things like that. We told the other roommate that we will be right back and that we could smoke it and go out to eat, etc. after.

So we get to Adams Morgan faster than we realized we could by walking and get to the convenience store that also sells hookah supplies. We buy them. Then I see something that might be a food truck so we investigate. It is just a truck for Capital Hemp. But it is right in front of Amsterdam Falafelshop, which was in the original DC Food Hall of Fame and I have never eaten at. And since we are a little hungry we decide to grab a falafel. If I were there after a night out in Adams Morgan it would have been perfect, but it was still good at 6pm. Then right next door is Black Squirrel, which I have also never been to. So we decide to grab a beer because I had heard they have a good selection. And they do. And I get a Breckenridge Vanilla Porter, which is the best porter I have had in a while as it was properly bitter and not overly sweet from the vanilla. And on the way back we get more wine to make it 9 bottles for the house in 2 days (Friday was an impromptu movie and wine night in the house--and by house i mean about 5 of us--all but one of whom is a guy, but we all had similar estrogen levels after watching It's Complicated and 17 Again. HBO needs better movies). We had planned on coming right back but this is what leaving the house can lead to. Amazing.

We ended up that night at Wonderland Ballroom down the street from our house. I like the place when I am not upstairs on the dance floor area because I am not a dance circle type of person (unless it is at Sassy Ann's in Knoxville) and luckily neither is my roommate, but that is where we were so we don't stay long. And we're hungry. And the Giant down the street is now open 24 hours. Being in this Giant at any normal hour you would think it is a popular tourist destination but at midnight it is like a ghost town, which is awesome. And we have the munchies. So my roommate goes on a personally funded shopping spree getting all three types of Baby Bell cheeses, Munchies, a Simply Apple, and whatever else adds up to $30 and we get back and have a cheese tasting session.

All three Baby Bells are delectable FYI.