The obligatory snow post

I've avoided it as long as I could, but it needs to be said.

Holy FUCK, we've got a lot of snow. Even the President has stopped mocking us for our snow response. At Christmas, right after Snowpocolypse*, I asked my cousin A, who lives in Colorado, whether she thought we were being wimps. She said "No, this is a lot of snow for anybody."

And then we did it again.

And as I write this it is snowing again, for the 10-20 inches that we're expecting overnight.

DC does not get weather like this. We just don't.

So, even though I assume that most of my readers are dealing with the same crap that I am, I offer photographic evidence:

My backyard.


The view from the front.


A street in my neighborhood, which three days after the last storm ended still had not been touched by a plow.


A street in my neighborhood.

*We here in the DC region have named the storms. The one in December was Snowpocolypse. The one earlier this week was Snowmageddon. The one starting today? Snoverkill.

Home

A couple of weekends ago, I went up to Baltimore to see my cousin’s show at the Hegaxon. I’ve been brooding off and on about it ever since, because spending time in Baltimore always has an odd effect on me.

I have a complicated relationship with the city of my birth. I have alternately loved it and hated it throughout my life, and now as I get ready to buy a condo in DC—a city that truly feels like home to me—I find myself feeling nostalgic for Baltimore. Again.

Unless you count my four years of college, I have never lived more than about 50 miles from Baltimore. I moved to Pennsylvania right before my freshman year of high school, under extreme protest. (In retrospect, high school might have been a little easier on me if I’d been a little less angry all of the time.)

After college, I was determined to move back to Baltimore. But PR jobs were few and far between there, so after an extremely frustrating summer of applying for jobs, living with my parents and selling shoes at a department store, I broadened my search. I found a job in DC, a city I had absolutely no interest in. I moved to Laurel, which was as far away from DC as I could possibly live and still have a reasonably decent commute.

It took me about three months to fall in love with DC. I can even pinpoint the exact moment: I was sitting at a table in the window of the Capitol City Brewing Company on New York Avenue, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was sitting in the middle of the most powerful city in the world. As I watched the people walking past me on the street, I realized that I was in the center of everything, and I loved it.

And that was the end of my love affair with Baltimore. I still went back, occasionally—my friends and I went clubbing there semi-often for a couple of years, and most of my family was still in the area—but I was a DC girl at heart.

Just recently, though, I’ve found that I feel an intense nostalgia for Baltimore—but only when I’ve recently spent time there. As I drove through the streets on the way home from the Hexagon, I felt like I was home, even though I never lived anywhere near the neighborhood we were in. And as I toured a condo in DC today with my realtor—a condo I really think I want to buy—I had a nagging voice in the back of my head saying “This isn’t where you belong.”

It will pass. It always does. At least, until the next time.

100 in 2010

I am a fan of the grand gesture. In some ways, you can look at this list as a grand gesture-I do it every year, even though I know that there's a decent chance I won't be able to do all of these things in the coming year. But I do it anyway. And this year I've given a fair amount of thought to that. I considered not doing the list at all, because it could be seen as setting myself up to fail. But I don't see it as a failure, and I never seriously entertained the notion of not doing it. And I think I know why. It's my way of setting goals, of articulating what I would like to do. And I need to do that periodically.

So here we are again. And this year, contained within my grand gesture is another grand gesture. I'm calling it Project Hometown Tourist. I've lived in DC for almost ten years, and the number of things I've never done, never seen, is absurd. So this year, I will do it, one thing a week whenever possible. And while I don't usually record my progress on the Big List on my blog, this part of it I will. If you'd like to accompany me in this project, just let me know.

As always, there are a few things on the list that I've chosen not to share.

100 in 2010

Project Hometown Tourist
1. Go to the top of the Washington Monument
2. Tour the White House
3. Tour the Capitol
4. Ice skate at the Sculpture Garden
5. Go to Jazz in the Garden
6. Go to Screen on the Green
7. Visit the Hirshhorn
8. Visit the Natural History Museum
9. Visit the American History Museum
10. Visit the National Portrait Gallery
11. Visit the American Art Museum
12. Visit Mount Vernon
13. Take a Duck tour
14. Visit the Anacostia Community Museum
15. Visit the Alice Paul House
16. Visit the Udvar-Hazy Center
17. Visit the Supreme Court
18. Visit the African Art Museum
19. Visit the National Museum of Crime and Punishment
20. Ride my bike along the C&O Canal
21. Visit Eastern Market
22. Visit the Museum of Women in the Arts
23. Tour the National Cathedral
24. Visit the National Building Museum
25. Go to an event at an embassy
26. Visit Brookside Gardens
27. Visit Hillwood Museum and Gardens
28. Visit the Basilica at CUA
29. Visit Meridian Hill Park to see the drum circle
30. Visit the Franciscan Monastery
31. Go to a DC Rollergirls match
32. Go to a DC United game
33. Go to First Friday in Dupont Circle
34. Visit the Corcoran
35. Visit the Phillips Collection
36. Read a book on the National Mall
37. Have drinks at a rooftop bar
38. Eat at Ben’s Chili Bowl
39. Visit the US Botanic Garden
40. Visit Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens
41. Visit the Library of Congress
42. Visit the World War II Memorial
43. Visit Dumbarton Oaks
44. Visit Theodore Roosevelt Island
45. Visit the National Gallery of Art
46. Visit Arlington Cemetery
47. Visit the monuments at night
48. Attend at least one event during the Cherry Blossom Festival
49. Attend the Drag Races
50. Attend a performance at the Kennedy Center
51. Attend a play at a DC theater I’ve never visited before
52. Visit the Newseum

Professional Development/Learning/Work Related
53. Read one professional development book per month
54. Take at least three Arabic classes
55. Write two booktalks per week
56. Take an ASL class
57. Keep up with my work blog
58. Take the bus to work at least 3x per week
59. Get involved in a professional organization
60. Apply for certification in Maryland and Virginia

Home
61. Buy a house or condo
62. Plant a garden
63. Waste less food

Health/Fitness/Personal Development
64. Do yoga at least 2x per week
65. Keep a food log
66. Personal
67. Take my lunch to work at least 4x per week
68. Limit fast food to 1x per week
69. Begin attending church
70. Read the entire Bible
71. Go kayaking
72. Take lessons in a musical instrument
73. Drink 48 oz. of water daily
74. Learn to salsa
75. Try krav maga
76. Take the Mensa test
77. See a dermatologist

Financial
78. Stick to a cash-based, zero-based budget
79. Pay off credit cards
80. Put all money from extra work into my savings account
81. Roll everything into AIG account
82. Increase the amount I contribute to my IRA.
83. Write a will and a living will

Social
84. Have friends over for dinner at least 1x per month
85. Join WIN
86. Join Young Benefactors of the Smithsonian
87. Personal
88. Keep the book club going
89. Join or form a stitch and bitch group

Writing
90. Write a novel
91. Join or form a writing group
92. Post to my personal blog 2x per week
93. Write in my paper journal at least 3x per week
94. Personal

Travel
95. Visit at least two states I’ve never visited before
96. Spend time at Alexandria Bay
97. Go to Canada
98. Go camping

Environmental
99. Buy as much as possible from a farmers market
100. Start composting

Still here...sort of

I am still around, but my brain is not. I have two days left until winter break, and these next 48 hours just might kill me.

On the up side, I've finally wised up and stopped trying to read the nonfiction book about the bubonic plague. I took a long hot bath tonight with one of Laurell K. Hamilton's trashy novels. Turns out that was exactly what I needed.

I'll be back soon (if anyone is listening) with the roundup of last year's Big List and my Big List for 2010.

My good act for the day...

This afternoon, I gave $30 to a complete stranger. I'm not sure if it was the right thing to do, but I'm glad I did it anyway.

I don't consider myself one who is easily conned. I'm generally pretty skeptical. And I have very little trouble saying no to people who ask me for money. When this woman approached me in the parking lot of Home Depot, I had every intention of blowing her off.

But something in her story rang true. In a nutshell, she told me that she had moved to the area three months prior and had been looking for a job ever since. She said that she was due to start a job on Monday, but that she had to show a state-issued ID Monday morning, or the job would be given to someone else. She had scraped together the money necessary to get a copy of her birth certificate, but didn't have enough to pay for the ID.

Sounds like a scam, right? And who knows? It might have been. But there was something about her that made me believe her. She showed me a receipt proving that she'd paid $18 to get her birth certificate yesterday. And her mannerisms--she seemed so embarrassed, and so nervous. And desperate.

But I almost never have cash on me. I gave her what change I had--less than $1--and got in my car and drove away. And then I worried. By the time I arrived back home--where I did have cash--I'd decided to go back.

I changed my mind six or seven times as I drove back. By the time I pulled into the Home Depot parking lot for the second time, I'd decided that I was being an idiot. Part of me hoped that she would no longer be there. But she was. And as I watched her talking to other people, she became visibly more upset and panicked looking. As I walked up to her, she was in tears. So I gave her the money. And I'm glad I did.

Thirty dollars is no small amount of money, but it's also not a big deal to me. I could afford it without really thinking twice. And something that I kept thinking about during this whole experience was that once upon a time, I was in a precarious enough financial situation that I couldn't handle unexpected expenses. Waiting tables was perfect for my mental health, but it was hell on my bank account. While I made enough money to pay rent and other critical bills, it took very little to send me into financial crisis. But I had a safety net--while I don't know that my parents ever really understood what made their college-educated daughter take three years off to work in the food service industry, they were willing and able to help me out when necessary. If I hadn't had them to lean on when I had an unexpected medical bill, or on that memorable occasion when I accidently hit submit twice when paying my student loan (which paid it twice), I don't know what I would have done.

So maybe it was a scam. If so, so be it. I know that if I hadn't given her the money I'd still be worrying about it. And while I know that I'm not responsible for other people's lives, I also know that I don't do enough to help people who are less fortunate than I. And maybe--just maybe--I helped someone take a small step toward independence. I'll never really know. But I do know that I'll sleep better tonight.

Why I avoid doing things in DC in the summer, or letters to the assholes at the Holocaust museum

Dear college-age girls sitting on the floor just inside the entrance,

Perhaps you could find a more appropriate place to discuss the new shoes you bought yesterday. Or, perhaps you could discuss it quietly, and not so loud that you drown out the sound of the video playing in the exhibit.

Regards,
Kate



Dear teenage kid who planted himself directly in front of every single display I was trying to read, *

If you happen to see a semicircle of people, standing a few feet back from a display, perhaps you should take into account that they have positioned themselves so that they can all read the sign at the same time. You do get points for saying excuse me as you cut through the group, but doing so and then standing six inches from the sign--leaving all of us staring at the back of your head--doesn't cut it. Neither does doing the same damn thing at every single display.

You are not the center of the universe,
Kate

*Also, the short woman who took over this role once I finally lost the teenage kid.



Dear Rebecca's dad,

I am not a parent, so some might say that I have no right to give parenting tips. But here are a few things you clearly need to know.

1. Common sense should tell you that little Rebecca should not be climbing on the displays. But even if common sense didn't tell you that, the nice woman with the walkie-talkie did. Four times. Now, of course I heard you relaying this to your little angel, but you seemed to be having some communication issues, since she ignored you.

2. If you tell your child "Now, we talked about this," and she hits you, perhaps responding by repeating yourself isn't going to cut it. Especially since she hit you again every time you said it.

3. This may have escaped you, but the Holocaust Museum is a fairly emotionally taxing place. Most visitors spoke in whispers, when they spoke at all. There was an air of solemnity and reverence that I felt was very appropriate. But not your little Rebecca. She tried to lighten up the room by emitting ear-piercing shrieks and announcing "My name is Rebecca" every thirty seconds. I know that helped me truly grasp the horror of Birkenau.

Now, I don't want you to think I'm a monster. I'm not angry at Rebecca here. She's a kid, and she was acting like a (slightly spoiled) kid. I'm angry at her dumbass parents who didn't realize that taking a five-year-old to the Holocaust Museum is a bad idea. But maybe I'm being too harsh. I mean, they only warn that the exhibition isn't appropriate for children under 11 seven or eight times before you get in the door. And clearly your desire to see the exhibition under any circumstances trumps the right of the other fifty people in the room to see it peacefully. I mean, did you see that lady with the crying baby? She actually hustled the kid out the door as quickly as possible. What an idiot!

Really, I should probably thank you. I'd been planning to try to go to the top of the Washington Monument before I go back to work, but you've reminded me why that's a bad idea this month. I'll save the rest of my trips downtown for October, when you'll be back in Nebraska or wherever the fuck you come from.

Good riddance,
Kate

The Perfect Accessory

You've got to love a purse in which you can carry an entire bottle of wine.