Evening Thoughts of the Day

No more excuses. From now on, it’s post at least once a day, preferrably twice with my morning thoughts and evening thoughts. In my rare moments of thinking further than two weeks into the future, I envision a life where I’m stable, able to pay back my family, and doing something I love.

Unfortunately, I have a twangy feeling in my heart that tells me I’m only going to get two of those, because that’s how Life makes sure I’m not getting too cocky. As if it’s ever given me the chance to get cocky. For once, I really would like to rock out with my cock out. Not just get by  . . . with my cock shy?

For my own future reference (and future memoir), I’m currently in a transitional phase where I’m debating applying to the Americorps or an unpaid internship at a banging art gallery. Not that the service army will pay me much more than minimum but it’s something. And really, considering the fact that I’ve already squandered, like, tens of thousands of dollars on an education I’ll never finish, something is better than nothing.

Right-o. Momentary bitterness is momentary.

Moving right along, is it sad that I’m actually getting life advice from watching House’s struggles with therapy? This should definitely be a fandom secret.

Exciting weekend ahead. I’ll just have to remember to post about it. Maybe string up some pictures. Make this place look livable. Put an Ikea futon in the corner and all the fly guys will be flocking at my metaphorical doorstep.

Y’know, if they haven’t been confused by my cock jokes. 😀

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Silver Spring and Silver Linings

Phil gave me a ride to the metro on his way to Dave & Busters to root for the Redskins. As though they might win against the Ravens. I’m really not a sports fan but, god, I remember the days when Washington sports were something to be proud of. And it’d be nice to have a team name that isn’t so fucking racist.  I think I’d have some objections if the local team ( no matter how good or steeped in local history) were called Slantyeyes or Yellowskins or Chinks.

Made my way to Silver Spring and helped Nazia pack up bits of her apartment while hanging out with the Chipmunk. Eventually we ventured out for some krazy glue and eats. Ended up in Dama Cafe, that new Ethiopian place right across from Zia’s (soon to be old) apartment. Chris had some beef tips while Zia and I shared some spicy tib wat w/ a whole bunch of injera. Our waitress was adorably attentive and giggly. She laughed a bit at our pronunciation and the fact that we were ordering something potentially mouth-burning but of all people, I think Zia and I could handle our spice.

Dama Cafe 1

Both the beef tips and the beef stew went swimmingly with the injera bread, and the cottage cheese and side salad didn’t hurt. The food wasn’t spectacular by any means but it was good and filling and I wouldn’t mind going back there to check out the rest of the menu.

Dama Cafe 2

Future Plans: Chris’ birthday, Restaurant Week Dinner with Emily, Baltimore bonanaza with Anica, Iris, and Jane

To Do: Fill out application for non-profit (craigslist), send resignation to L, respond to EJ, email FinAid and AcAd.

Song of the day: Kevin Rudolf – Let it Rock

Show of the day: Being Human, Warehouse 12 (Claudia and sexy Joe Flanigan, yesssss)

Down the rabbit hole and into the looking glass

Yesterday was an odd but beautiful sort of day: the kind of day that I look for everyday but if I got it would make my life much more interesting than I could possibly handle. It started with an afternoon expedition to the Sakura Matsuri Festival on Penn Ave under the imminent threat of rain. As the sky alternately shone like stadium lights and drizzled like a drooling baby, the festival was in full swing as people sampled bastardized versions of various Asian cuisines and delighted in staged performances. I wound up watching a Cosplay Contest where the Harajuku influence was quite evident. My favorites were a group of country Lolita gals (one of whom, I believe, was cross dressing) and a group of teenage Naruto fans who were geekily, charmingly funny in their responses. Both presenters were quite obviously Japanese and usually flummoxed but the male presenter made up for it by being unbearably pretty.

Afterwards, I made way back down Penn Ave, passing by several Sake/Beer gardens decked out in cutesy paper flowers, a Wii tent with a DDR competition going strong, and various arts and crafts booths. I dearly coveted the paper crane earrings and hand-blown/painted candy but ran short on cash and patience. At the GO tent, I watched a game in progress between a regular player and a neophyte. Educational and entertaining.

Each time I came upon a booth selling anime or cute t-shirts or kimonos I dearly wished Nazia and Vivian were there to share the experience with me. Which accounts for my stopping by a woodworking/calligraphy booth to get wood pendants inscribed with the phrases “Morning Flower” and “Evening Flower” in Japanese for them. At the Cherry Blossom Tea tent, I sipped tea alongside a beautifully polite and affable man and his children. His son (eight or nine years old?), reminded gently by his father, introduced himself to me then asked with great enthusiasm if I had noticed any tents selling anime and manga products along my way. To which I laughed and explained that there was a whole section of the festival down the street devoted to J-Pop. The boy grinned ear to ear, and the father offered his farewells as they roamed off. This, and the whole day really, is why I love the geek community.

Partly to commemorate this auspicious interaction and partly because I am an avid fan of cherry blossoms, I bought a batch of blooming blossoms tea which I am now drinking, and it is heavenly. It smells and tastes exactly of sweet cherry blossoms. Magnificent.

Took in the sights, gazed longingly at some kimonos, had the Japanese paper art Washi explained to me, and followed a crowd to a magnificent performance of drums and dancing. The men played drums and alternated performances with the dancing women. The nihon buyo dancers were like dolls come to life. The occasional, high-pitched “hai” only served to accentuate that illusion. Very cute and a definite sight to see. By the time I was ready to move on the crowd had doubled.

Next, I took a breather and sat watching a kendo exhibition while munching on the roasted almonds I bought earlier. Fun, especially when they brought out a little boy who enthusiastically attempted to hit the target with little miniscule cries of attack.

At that point, I made my way towards the White House, saw that the line stretched down several blocks and detoured around the National Treasury to the back of the White House. None of which I recall ever seeing before in all my twenty-one years of living twenty minutes away from DC. There were the usual protestors behind the White House. The great, white building seemed such a calm place for the epicenter of all the turmoil that has wracked the nation these past seven years. Further along, I found the Renwick Gallery, which I’m sorry to have missed all these years. It held a fascinating collection of Ornament as Art. In my hurry to catch the Bhangra Block Party at GW, I skipped merrily out of there as soon as I had availed myself of their plumbing facilities. After asking for directions from some policemen, I tramped along ’til I reached the Farragust West station. Reaching GW was a frustrating, though ultimately useful, exercise in directions. But I then put one foot in front of the other to reach Georgetown. Finally made it to Big Planet in time to play catch up on Simone’s run of Wonder Woman. Then picked up some drinks and a yogurt parfait from Dean & Deluca to enjoy on the waterfront. My poor feet were begging me to just pick a spot and rest my bum at this point but I persevered along the entire waterfront ’til I found a bench right in front of a rowing center, on the far end of the front and sat enjoying the sun, the parfait, and Pterry’s Wintersmith.

Far more time passed than I had been aware of before I finally made my way back to the Foggy Bottom stop to go home. I passed the Watergate complex and a bevy of Kennedy Center go-ers on my way. On the metro, reluctant to have the day end, I made an impulse decision to stop by Dupont Circle and wander for a bit before I went back. Here was where my day truly took a turn for the odd. Popped into Kramerbooks and Beadazzled, then made my way to the circle itself to sit down and write the day’s happenings. There was a great crowd of people enjoying the weather and indulging in various activities. Amongst them, next to me sat three very amiable gentlemen, one of whom was drawing very detailed portraits of various people in the circle, and another of whom, named Ephim Schluger, I held a varied and lengthy conversation with. Ephim was clearly looking to share his thoughts and the wonderful sunset with someone, and I was the lucky recipient of his colorful and charismatic conversation. I stayed on ’til almost nine chatting with him over various cities’ future plans and the worries and cares of the world, how insular and conservative American culture had become and so forth. It was englightening, engaging, and it had have convinced me to return to university in the fall.

The other half of convincing me fell to Ms. Angela Wu, attorney for the Becket Fund, and a friendly woman I met while waiting for the train. I was attempting to open my bottle of Sierra Mist w/o having it run all over my fingers, so I was sitting on a bench, holding the bottle up to eye level and twisting the cap on and off like some psychotic paranoid. She came over to laugh in commiseration of the quandary I found myself in, and I awkwardly attempted a conversation. I think she was a bit taken aback by my lack of social niceties but apparently I was interesting enough to continue a dialogue with. We learned very little about each other in the ten minutes we conversed but I felt at least a whiff of the kindred spirit about her, and I now hold a business card which declares her line of work. A line of work defending religious liberty (all religions, not just the monotheistic ones), which I find beyond commendable.

So yesterday was a good day. Inexplicable in some ways, but good.