Friday, October 27, 2006

Just my CD and me

It's quiet here tonight. The roomies are gone and the apartment is mine. I've got the television off and my CD player is sharing the newest tunes of my collection, Fertile Ground. With the rain going nowhere and the slight waft of autumn in the air, the music floats magically as I am tucked under my favorite blanket. I have four other similar albums in the player's queue. Waiting.

Sigh.

Lazy Fridays are rare. Lonely ones are even farther between. I'm liking this quite a bit. Solitude is a foreign concept around here. There's always someone nearby. Living with three other people makes it inevitable. I treasure my few minutes at the end of the day when I arrive home before everyone else. I can collect myself, reflect, and gather my thoughts. I wouldn't say I completely unwind, but I do detox from my day.

I met Rich's wife today. She was telling me about a friend of hers who has a Sidekick, that makes email and messaging a hip away. She looked like she was about to burst as she described what it could do. When she was done, I was candid and shared that I had no desire to be that accessible. Not skipping a beat, she turned to Rich and said she'd like to be that accessible. There are times that I don't even want to hear my cell phone ring once more. I can't imagine wanting more accessibility and paying for it.

I'm not naive. I know it will happen one day. It's where technology is going and it's on the horizon. I'm just not committing any sooner than I must.

The irony is that the technology "connects" us while pushing us farther apart. People walk around with their noses in the Blackberries (aka Crackberries here in DC) and are detached from everything around them. Please. Quit reading your up-to-the-minute weather report and lift your eyes.

We're at the point where everything can be done from home. You can order your Friday night without any form of human contact. Pizza. Movies. Games. I guess human interaction is optional (unless you live in apartment with three others... there aren't too many options there!).

Maybe the creators of this technology had roommates and rare alone time. That's the only thing I can figure. It was an escape. Now it's just becoming a reality for all.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The Dining Car

My crazy companion was three cars behind me on the train that we shared. Most likely it was then, while I was seated in the dining car, that he began sipping on his Hennessey. He was no worry to me. At that point, I had escaped our grueling conversation and was enjoying the scene in front of me.

There were only seven tables in the car. They reminded me of the cheap booths that lined the walls of the cafeteria at West. As I slid into my booth, I noticed the lip that was on the edge of the table. It guarded any unprotected lap from spills. Other than that, it was like any other booth.

I sat with my back to the last booth in the car. A man had his back to mine and had covered his table-top with papers. He was distracted by no one and seemed intensely focused on the work before him.

I unwrapped my sub. It was ham and cheese and the cheese oozed out the sides. Yum. I looked around at the other Amtrak patrons with whom I dined. I felt, for my time there, like an Edward Hopper painting.

In front of me was an odd trio. A man with gray hair sat across from a couple. His bow tie was blue and his shirt pin striped. His jacket, though meant to look expensive, looked much less costly paired with the cheap tie. The couple facing him were not together. She had slipped in last. Her British accent hung in the air and I could tell the gray haired man facing her was trying his best to impress. So was the man beside her. She was, in fact, the only woman their age in the car. The man beside her had his own distinct accent. It was rich with Southern tones and his Budweiser, faded hat, and flannel shirt played on the stereotype in my head. He had his elbow on the back of their shared perch. His torso faced her and his Budweiser never left his hand.

Behind them (and in the last booth on my side of the car) sat another trio. It was three giggling teens. Two of whom were girls. All three looked like an American Eagle ad. Their clothes were layered, with appropriate tucks and outages. The girls focused their attention on their shared male companion. There was the occasional hair flippage (by all three). His hair was shaggy and both of the girls had headbands holding their longer manes back. I was much less interested in their ad than the bow tie trio.

Across from the teens sat an older black couple. I was envious. They were playing cards. He was facing me and she was facing her scotch and him. It wasn't poker. They were playing with too many cards. I learned later what it was, but I've since forgotten. They seemed oblivious to the car around them... even to one another, as there was little conversation exchanged. Their individual trances were broken only by the flip of a new card.

At this point, I opened up my laptop and started a game of solitaire. Disappointed with the less than entertaining results, I peered over my computer at the other patrons.

A man sat by himself behind the card players. He was older than the other gray haired, bow tie man and was balding. The remnants of what he ate earlier sat in front of him. A sandwich container similar to my own. His gut barely fit in the booth. He was lost in his book. He was in the center of it- no doubt caught up in characters far from the fluorescent lit car.

I should have brought a book. I stared at my solitaire game and looked at the couple playing. Next time, I'm riding with someone who can play cards with me.

In the booth to my immediate left sat the conductor. One of them. I learned later, from my crazy seat buddy, that an average of three conductors ride on the train. They trade off and relieve each other. I guess the one beside me was on a break. He was joined by two other workers who apparently were of lower rank than he. They were discussing the stops. What was next, what was after that, and how Greensboro was "going to be a pain" because there were so many bags to unload.

Good, I thought. We won't be rushed too quickly off the train.

The conductor barely looked up from his paperwork. He was adding figures. They were the number of people getting off at each stop. Twenty three were getting off in Greensboro. I was one of his figures. Just a number and a woman staring at a solitaire game.

My attention fell outside the window. It was dark and I could see nothing but an occasional orange light race by. Well, I guess we were the ones racing. The lights stood still against the darkness as our dining car passed.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

One Day at a Time

I'm looking forward to a looong weekend. I've taken off Friday and am going home tomorrow after work. It will be my first train ride in years and I'm excited about sitting and the opportunity to zone out for a few hours. My boss has agreed to let me leave early. I plan on working a little while on the train, so when I asked about heading out before 5:30, he graciously let me.

I'm looking forward to catching up with my family and also meeting some new people. Mike and I are going to a wedding in Asheville. So, part of the weekend will be spent in Asheville and the other in Winston. I can't wait!! I wish I was already there. Tomorrow is going to be long due to my anticipation. I haven't been home in a while.

The week has been great. The past few days have kind of been slow after last weekend.

My grandma, aunt, and cousin were in town. Also, Dave graced us with his presence over the weekend as well. Our time together flew by. Mal and I welcomed the chance to show the family "our city" and favorite places to go. The weekend was a mixture of planned events and places to go, but we also had time to relax and just enjoy one other.

After they arrived on Friday, we went to Bistro. Kaylor waited on us and I was impressed. He's getting better. All except the part about forgetting to ask Mallory what she wanted. Yeah. Poor Mal.

On Saturday we semi slept in before heading to the Air Force Memorial dedication. The ceremony was on the grounds of the Pentagon, where the memorial stands tall against the sky a few hundred yards away. President Bush and Donald Rumsfeld spoke. I was more impressed with the airshow than any of the speeches.

After catching the ceremony, we headed to Thaiphoon, one of the best Thai restaurants that we've found. From there, we came back to the house and enjoyed a relaxing evening as we played Apples to Apples. I love that game. It prompted great stories and some contagious laughter.

Sunday came too quickly. We headed to Eastern Market after first grabbing brunch at Bread and Chocolate. While the food was okay, the company is what made the meal. After dining and shopping away the afternoon, we headed back to the house for some great conversation, some political chatter, and (later) some homemade dinner. Grandma made us her yummy noodles and Drew made a delicious salad, complete with toasted goat cheese and homemade dressing. The entire meal was fabulous and the perfect way to end the weekend.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Last Weekend

It was different in many ways than the norm. First off, I had to work the majority of it. There was a Commission meeting at the CCCU. Normally, I would have played a smaller role, but my boss was in Russia. Since he is on the Commission, I stepped in and was his "ears" for their weekend-long meeting. The Commission is of comprised of campus chaplains and ministry directors from around the country. Most of them were from out west (CA and WA) and stayed the whole weekend.

Friday night, they me at CCCU and we did our meetings there. I was in charge of lunch preparations and for organizing dinner plans. Not a big deal at all. I took them to Bistro for dinner. We had a new server who rocked. It was her second day- she'd obviously waited tables before. So, I was a bit relieved when our pace, etc. went smoothly. Everyone enjoyed their food too.

That night, we stayed at the National Cathedral. It's breathtaking. We arrived there shortly after nine and I made my way to my room. I roomed with one of the Commission members. To get to our room, I had to walk through the kitchen and up this random stairwell. The room was small and quaint. It housed a dresser, nightstand, and two twin beds. The furniture left much to be desired and the window AC unit looked like it hadn't been used in twenty years. I was relieved it would not be needed. No telling how many crispy bugs would have reappeared from its insides if it had been activated. The hallway was dark and the floor had carpet like one would find in a home, not a hotel. Slightly plushed, but also old. We shared a bathroom with the three other rooms in our "wing". It was no dormitory style room either. It had one toilet, one shower, and one sink. The Cathedral was cold and the windows were poorly insulated. I could feel the air blowing through the cracks.

It was quite an experience. Before I went, Drew told me the "ghost" story of the Nun that haunts the Cathedral. Somehow, the irony of a nun haunting a church is beyond me. As I sat in an empty parlor, with my blanket wrapped around me, I couldn't help but wonder the history of the room I was in and of the Cathedral in general. It was cool to stay there. It's one thing to look at it and even tour, but quite another to spend the night.

On Saturday, we met at the Cathedral all day. We ate breakfast and lunch there. They had family style tables and a small buffet for us and about twenty other guests. We ate beneath high ceilings adorned with stain glass. Amazing. I couldn't help but wonder if it used to be a place where services were conducted as I looked over to the right and saw a pulpit pit (for lack of a much better term) that jutted out and over the corner of the room.

We finally wrapped up our meetings in the early evening. They graciously drove me back to my apartment. When I got home, I was exhausted. Mal was in NC over the weekend, so Drew and I just hung out for a bit. Then, inspired by it being Saturday night, we decided to go to Under, a dance club close to Chinatown. It had four levels with different music on each one. It was a fun time.

Sunday was spent catching up on some sleep. Later in the afternoon, Drew and I made our way back to the Chinatown area and went to the National Portrait Gallery. After spending a little over an hour there, we caught the film The Science of Sleep. It was a mixture of English and French, with the artistic inspiration of French director, Michel Gondry. The film was well made, although it left me feeling a bit melancholy. I was impressed by the acting and the audience's immediate ability to emotionally connect with the actors. Definitely "artsy" and not for everyone, but it made for perfect Sunday evening entertainment.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

A City of Acronyms

They are everywhere here. Over the past few weeks I can't help but think about this recurring theme throughout DC. I mean, the shortened version of the city is itself an acronym.

When I worked at the Library of Congress (which I loving refer to as the LOC, oh the irony), there were departments that reported to CRS (Congressional Research Service, there again). They had at least a dozen of them and I had just started mastering their meanings before I left.

Now, I'm at the Council (CCCU), where my shortened title is the Admin Asst for the EVP (AA for the EVP). It's this signature title that is in all my emails. When I go out and tell people my title and where I work, I'm old by the time I'm done. So, I shorten it.

And so does everyone else around here. Are people too high strung and fast paced in DC that spouting their titles is too much? Is there that much work to do (or pretend to do if they're in gov't) that wasting time with the extended version is too time consuming?

I went to a party this weekend, where I asked a guy what he does, and he rambled off all these letters. Can someone actually BE a stream of letters? Here in DC one can. After trying to decode them, I eventually folded and asked for the translated version. The answer: A cancer research assistant at the department of health (or something along those lines). CRA at the HD. Eh, you get the idea.

In looking back at NC, there wasn't this push to condense. What is it about DC? Can the name of a city be a prelude to the people inside it?