Someone was going to have to set a bad example.

I am awesome beyond words.

Apr 14, 2008
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My running goal has been to go an entire mile straight without stopping. One time I got pretty close, .85 miles I think. I was pretty frustrated when I saw that I had only been half a dozen blocks away from my goal.

When I left for a run this morning, I didn't think it would be that productive. I hadn't run in well over a week. I had only had coffee for breakfast and little to eat the night before. Plus, I'm losing iron. (I, uh, rediscovered the joys of womanhood about three minutes before I left. Thank god for good timing.)

I was feeling good when I got to the top of the first hill, which is usually where I make my first stop. I was *still* feeling good as I neared the elementary school, which is the furthest I had gone before. I said to myself that if I could finish the song I had just started ("Say It Right" by Nelly Furtado, about 3:30 minutes), I would surely reach my goal and a huge burst of pride egged me on.

Ms. Furtado finished and I still could breathe well enough to keep going. Somewhere into "Ms. New Booty," I finally stopped just outside the King Street metro station, ecstatic that I had made my goal.

I got home and plotted out my run, to see exactly how far I had gone. 1.25 miles! I went a full quarter mile further than my original goal. And without killing myself! Granted, my lower back hurts, but it's a small price to pay for being awesome.

Newseum

Apr 13, 2008
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I went to my first paid-admission museum in DC today, the Newseum. At $20, I was hesitant, but my curiosity and a Sunday with nothing to do except put off doing my taxes got the better of me. Overall, I'd say I was pretty impressed and would definitely recommend a visit.

I got there shortly after noon on an empty stomach, so my first stop was the food court in the basement. The food, from Wolfgang Puck Catering, was very good, but expensive. I paid $16 for a chicken/pesto/pepper sandwich, Vitamin Water, and a fabulous little chocolate pecan tart. I only ate half my lunch and wanted to save it for later, but wasn't sure the staff would let me wander around the museum with food. I asked at the coffee bar and the super friendly staff offered to hold it behind the counter for me. Bonus.

I stared at some Berlin wall slabs for a few minutes (cool, but I'd see others at the Ford Museum), did as a guide recommended, and took the elevator to the sixth floor, to work my way down. There's not a whole lot up there, except for a long wall of front pages from the major newspaper of every state and probably 30 countries, which was pretty interesting, if only for the occasional odd title (Austin American-Statesman comes to mind). The other great part about the top floor is the terrace on Pennsylvania, which in itself might be worth the admission.

04-13-08_1240

The fifth floor has a nifty section, which I almost skipped, called News History. It's basically a long row of newspaper front pages, about 3 per year, and some interactive displays on famous journalists. I dabbled in the 1970s era for a while and moved on. On the fourth floor is an exhibit on 9/11, which I again almost skipped. In the middle is a mangled piece of metal, a broadcast tower from the top of one of the World Trade Center buildings. This is surrounded by a timeline of the reporting of the day and a wall of domestic and foreign headlines on the event. I'm generally not moved by patriotic displays, but I was tempted to reach for the tissue box thoughtfully made as part of the display.

04-13-08_1256

The third floor, in my mind, is pretty dull. There is an exhibit on the internet and news and a glass wall so visitors can see into the museum's "master control room." (They have Herman Miller chairs. Two points.) For the opening weekend, however, there were a number of caricaturists on the floor. I've never had a caricature done, so I had to wait. It was amusing, people walking by, looking at the drawing, looking at you and smiling. The artist told me that I had come on the right day, because Friday and Saturday had been crazy busy. He also asked if I was of German descent, because I bore a striking resemblance to an au pair they had. Unfortunately, my scanner is only so big, so the bottom and some of the sides got cut off. In the full version, I'm standing/falling off a ladder, with stacks to the left, and Newseum Grand Opening April 2008 at the bottom. I must say, I think it's pretty bad ass. I knew I kept smirking while he was drawing, but it came out fantastic. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I had no idea I was so cute!

Newseum Caricature

The second floor is a bunch of interactive stuff, including stuff on ethics(!) and a place to try your hand at being a reporter/photographer. The gift shop had a fantastic pair of pajamas with a crossword puzzle print. I was ready to go home with them when I saw that the pants alone were $50. Yeesh. At this point, I went back down the basement, finished off my lunch, and went back up to the first floor. In the back is an exhibit on Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs. I found a display and parked it, instead of fighting my way around the room of 100 people or so. My favorite photograph was one of Bill Clinton I'd never seen before, from early campaigning days, completely surrounded by a marching band, and he's throwing his head back in laughter. There was a series of others, taken sometime in the 90s, on female genital mutilation in Kenya and, as you can imagine, I almost had another tear fest in this crowded room. The photos were disturbing, mostly not that graphic, except for a few, including one of the girl being held down by several other women. The last photo, however, struck me. The girl was sitting near some bushes, her legs out in front of her, her head down. She seems to be crying, and she probably is. But when I read the caption, that the girl had her head down, not to hide her tears, but so she could see what they had done to her, what parts of her body they had *cut off*, I nearly lost it.

My last stop before leaving was the "4-D Experience," a 3-D movie in a theater with moving seats. The movie was a string of the stories of three different historical journalists, interesting enough, but a bit on the cheesy side, and at fifteen minutes, wasn't nearly long enough. (While we were waiting for the movie to start, the guy next to me asked where Bono was and I snickered.)

So that's my Newseum adventure. I recommend it, especially if you're a history buff like myself.

Music

Apr 11, 2008
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I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way, but I really love music because, good music anyway, has the power to completely change my mood. A peek at some of my iTunes playlists would provide a little insight into what I'm talking about. Yes, I have basic categories like genre (Alternative, Pop), activities (Bellydancing, Dancing, Running, Partying, Singing), and origin (Brits, Latin). But then I also have playlists specifically made to make me feel a certain emotion. I have lists that make me feel confident, generically good and happy, sexy, pissed off, and songs that make me cry. I even have a list simply titled "Me." I only vaguely remember creating it, but I think they're songs that I feel define me. Does anyone else do this? Make playlists for moods?

Fun music facts about me:

Most played song: Let's Get It On by Marvin Gaye

Artist most frequented in my top 25: OkGo (8 songs)

Artist in my top 25 no one's heard of: The Cooper Temple Clause

Favorite song to sing: I'm the Only One by Melissa Etheridge, but also: Santa Monica by Everclear, What Becomes of the Brokenhearted by Jimmy Ruffin, Like a Virgin by Madonna

Song that makes me think of Switzerland: Stop This Train by John Mayer

Favorite song to make me cry: Don't Speak by No Doubt or How's It Gonna Be by Third Eye Blind

Favorite songs to put me in the mood (besides Marvin): Anytime, Anyplace by Janet Jackson, Cry To Me by Solomon Burke (Think Dirty Dancing, "Dance with me," in Johnny's cabin.)

Best ass shakin' songs: My Love by Justin Timberlake, Give It to Me by Timbaland, Pump It by Black Eyed Peas, Objection (Tango) by Shakira

Last song purchased on iTunes: All This Time by Heartless Bastards (fantastic!)

Songs that I can sort of relate to right now: Insensitive by Jann Arden, Portions for Foxes by Rilo Kiley

Current favorite bitch songs: Bossy by Kelis, Magic Stick by Lil' Kim

High School, Bitterness, and Feminazism

Apr 9, 2008
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Thanks to the internet, I recently found a friend from high school, someone I hadn't talked to since I graduated 7 years ago. I don't know if you could really call what we had friendship. We didn't hang out outside of class, but then I didn't hang out with any guys outside of class in high school. "Platonic" and "male friendship" were not two words that went together in my vocabulary for a very long time. Mostly we argued. We were both stubborn and firm in what we believed in, even if they were at opposite ends of the spectrum, and somehow, at the end of the day, we still had total respect for each other. (I think that's something I'm really missing from my life right now, a man who openly and readily respects me for my mind.) A lot of my political self-definition came from those arguments. Over the years I've more than a couple times stared at a photo of the two of us taken at the senior all-nighter and wondered where he was, what he was doing.

After exchanging a message or two, he gave me his cellphone number and we talked 45 minutes last night and another 45 minutes tonight. The first night was mostly about our jobs and DC. I talked about the decision to become a librarian and the decision to move here. He answered my questions about being a pilot and told me about wandering around DC by himself when he was here, including discovering ESPN Zone ("You should go there. You could meet a nice conservative guy to set you straight." HA! "You don't know me very well anymore. If anything, I'd set him straight."). It was nice, but I wasn't done asking questions. "Well, I'm available tomorrow if you want to call back." This time we got a little more back into our original topic: political ideology. The thing that struck me about him more than anything else was a pervasive bitterness. The people younger than him at work hadn't worked as hard to get where he had. No matter who became our next president, we would be at war. Liberals just want to give out handouts so that people don't have to accept personal responsibility. I clearly laid into him for that one. I was really confused by his bitterness though. Where did it come from? What happened to him that made him that angry? Was he like this when I knew him? I couldn't remember. But then I also wanted to sit him down, talk to him logically, and somehow make him realize that life could be good, to let just a shred of my hope and idealism rub off on him.

Later in the conversation we talked about his recent engagement. "Well, you gotta do it at some point," he said. My obvious rebuttal: "No you don't." At that point he referred to me as a "feminazi." I smiled to myself. I've always worn the label feminist with pride and I knew where this was coming from. It's always hard to tell, but even something said in jest usually has an element of truth to it. "You're one of those women who doesn't need a man for anything." Lol. For the most part, I agree with that. If that's what a feminazi is, then count me in. The only thing I could think of was for sex. Sure, I can masturbate, but it's not the same, and I subtly said as much. (Subtly. I was only a closet sexpot in high school and I'm not sure that I'm ready for him to know about that aspect of my personality.) "Sometimes it's nice to have a warm body." "Oh, well, at least you need a man for *one* thing." I thought about it the whole way home. Really, what else *would* I need a man for? I have a job. I take care of myself. I have girl friends for my emotional and intellectual needs. Perhaps he just needed to be more clear about the difference between needing and wanting. Yes, I've accumulated some male friends over the years, mostly former boyfriends and/or fuckbuddies, but they don't provide much that I can't get from women, just stronger hugs. I do think you can make an argument that what I said is all a pile of shit. I clearly require male approval more than other women. I guess I could have said that, but I'm not sure that wouldn't have been too personal.

None of this is really the point. Or maybe it is the point. But another thought is that we had very different viewpoints on this. To me, being able to do something without men is not an insult. To most women I know, it's a compliment. *Needing* men is not a desirable quality. To him, this was a bad thing. I wish I knew why. I'm really confused by all of this. Do men want to be needed? I can see why it would make you feel good about yourself. We all want to feel like we're an important part of someone else's life. But at the same time, needy women are generally not the ones men are attracted to. Am I wrong? Maybe I'm seeing a dichotomy between being confident/independent and needing someone of the opposite gender to be complete, a dichotomy that doesn't have to be mutually exclusive. I really don't know. I'm still struggling to figure this all out.

I really wish I could come up with a nice closing to this long schpeel, except that I've got nothing.

Tonight I listened to a former governor/ambassador talk about the need for women in politics. It was really inspiring. I think I'd like to run for office someday.

History Dork Stuff

Apr 7, 2008
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I don't write about work stuff much, but this was just too much in one day and it got me thinking.

So, I had this document today (from November 3, 1975), with a journalist, and they're talking about disagreements with Defense Secretary James Schlesinger about SALT and whatnot. George Bush, Donald Rumsfeld ("Rummy," even then), and William Colby (the Director of Intelligence) are all mentioned, but not in any significant way. I think nothing of it, because for the past couple of weeks there had been all kinds of disagreements with Schlesinger, including about whether they should give military aid to Israel. I just assume this is another case of Kissinger not getting along with the other cabinet members, doesn't play well in the proverbial sandbox. A document or two later, I have Nelson Rockefeller and they're sort of joking about having lunch and this press announcement set for noon. Most of the document is harmless, but something about the press thing seems to be a big deal. I pull up the historical Washington Post database (the joys of academic libraries), do a little search for "rockefeller", and nearly fall out of my chair. All in one day (or possibly two, I can't tell), Kissinger gives up his job as National Security Adviser (but remains Secretary of State), Ford fires Schlesinger (replaced by Rumsfeld) AND Colby (replaced by Bush), and Rockefeller announces that he won't be on the ticket as VP in 1976!

My first thought is that this was clearly a big day in politics, particularly national security issues, but then my second thought is that this is also a day we all got screwed. I have mixed feelings. As not only a Michigander, but someone from Grand Rapids, I love me some Jerry. At the risk of sounding super-patriotic, this is a guy who never had ambitions to be president, but did what he could when he was asked. He inherited a shitty situation when no one trusted the government and a bunch of staff he didn't know. But the beef is, as Ms. Amy's pointed out before, he replaced them with some of the people who ended up screwing us later. Hmm... maybe they weren't so bad when they were younger?

Sometimes my job is really fucking awesome.

"My Hair: An Evolution" or "The Long and Short of It"...

Apr 6, 2008
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Or "Why My Aunt Flipped Out When She Saw Me for the First Time in Over 10 Years."

So, I was playing with some photos tonight and I was inspired. Many of you haven't known me for more than a few years, so you might not know that I used to have crazy long hair and it was a huge part of my identity. Over time, I gradually let go of that identity, most of it in grad school, but sometimes I miss the compliments. I think some of you will enjoy this, if only to laugh at pictures of me as a youngster.

6th Grade

This is me at 12 years old. It was another friend's birthday, which she ended up getting in trouble for when her dad overheard our racy conversations. I think he sent her to a Christian school after that. Oops.

8th Grade

14 years old and still the same crazy long hair.

12th Grade

Big jump in time here, 18 years old. The hair is still long, but at a more manageable length. This was at our graduation all-nighter, so it was the end of the year. This is also where the tongue sticking out in photos trend begins. (The other girl was one of my best friends in early high school. She's one of very few people from high school who I wish I was still in contact with.)

3rd/Last Year of College

Another big jump in time, this was taken on my 21st birthday. I look like a total hippie. I think that was actually the longest my hair was in college.

2nd Year of Grad School

This is in the very early fall of second year, our first house party. I'm back to a more normal length again. Yes, that's a belly dancing scarf. No, his hair is not really that long.

2nd Year of Grad School

This is somewhere in the middle of second year, at a house party. The length hasn't changed much, but I went through this weird phase where I dyed my hair pinkish or reddish a couple times, only with the stuff that comes out after 8 to 10 washes. Yes, I'm very drunk in this photo.

2nd Year of Grad School

This is in March of second year, outside the New York Public Library, I think. It's one of many photos of me and Amy looking cute together. Something about our similarly fair complexions. Notice the length is a little shorter.

October 2007

Wow, this is actually a year and a half after the last one. There wasn't a whole lot of change in that period I guess, except that once I started going to the same stylist, I started parting my hair on the side. That's me squinting into the sun, standing on a mountain in Switzerland, scared to death that I'll somehow fall over the railing. Or the platform will collapse. I'm afraid of heights and I have a vivid imagination. Anyway, this was pretty long for me at the time. I spent half the trip getting frustrated with it and putting my hair up.

January 2008

13 years, and inches, later, freshly primped for my 25th birthday, this is my currently preferred length.

Addictions

Apr 6, 2008
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I haven't written in a while, I know. I had this whole thing in my head for a post about all my recent addictions. Or things that you crave the more you get them, but less, the longer you go without them. I wrote a long paragraph... and then I deleted it. I think I lost my creative juices. I don't know where they went, but I want them back.

Things I'm addicted to: Wine, Coffee. I had 3 cups today, but, ironically, I buy caffeine-free Diet Coke at the grocery store.

Things I'd like to get back into being addicted to: Running, Writing.

Things I'm less addicted to the more I get them: Sex.

Amy and I Transcribe the State of the Union

Jan 28, 2008
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(I'm watching online while she's watching on television, so I'm about 20 seconds behind her. Occasionally we blurt out random words to test the time difference.)

Me: are those supreme court dorks?

Amy: who?

Me: some dudes in robes

in the front

Amy: pelosi is making sour faces

-----------

Me: pelosi is looking at the takeout menu

Amy: she's reading the program

Me: takeout menu

Amy: "how long is this speech?"

Me: she wants the general tso's

----------

Me: who's that chick?

Amy: ted kennedy?

----------

Me: ted wants the kung pao shrimp

Amy: business here at home

Me: resolved

Amy: i think he wants the sweet & sour pork

----------

Me: imerges

these imerges

of liberty

Amy: sept 11!

Me: uh oh

Amy: evil men

9/11!!

justice to our enemies!!!

Me: lol

Amy: war on terror!!!

-----------

Amy: spreading the hope of freedom

Me: ew

is that like syphillis?

Amy: is freedom an std?

Me: maybe

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Me: stop standing up

Amy: NEW HOPE

Me: this is cracking me up

because youre so far ahead

Amy: i think they lifted these bits from the last 6 speeches

Me: god, he *looks* dumb

Amy: applause, applause

IRAQ

just then he looked fake sassy

------------

Amy: more applause

pelosi's applause is tepid

Me: more menu time

she's hungry

if you threw a fortune cookie at his head, waht would it say?

Amy: dick chenney needs another heart shock

i'm about to be cracked by stupid?

Me: you will find a new job

Amy: pelosi is blinking

a lot

Me: she's so hungry shes crying?

she has duck sauce in her eye?

------------

Amy: this speach makes my dog want to pee

------------

Amy: chenney is trying to stare congress down

Me: maybe he's tryign to find the delivery boy

------------

Amy: condoleeza is wearing a tan sack

Me: with stitching!

Amy: it's sack-tastic!

-----------

Me: whenever i hear the phrase home land, i think of nazi germany

-----------

Amy: condi's drifting off

why didn't you get a ticket?

SIDEBYSIDEINPEACE

to the speach

you couldabeen bestdressed

Me: lol

Amy: easy peasy

Me: sequined gown

Amy: strappy shoes

-----------

Me: are these all this boring?

Amy: yes

Me: i thought so

Amy: disease!

30B over five years

(fight aids)

Me: but its still boring

Amy: who told you govnt was exciting?

Me: politics are exciting

Amy: you want excitement, try consumer products

-----------

Amy: alito is ugly

Me: he totally skipped barack, did you see that?

no hand shaking

Amy: hi, i'm the ugly supreme court justick

Challenges to City Romance

Jan 13, 2008
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There are many upsides to living in a city with quality public transportation. It means that I can save hundreds of dollars a month not paying for a car, insurance, gas, parking, inspections, and taxes. It means that I never have to worry if my car has been stolen. It means that for less than $5/day, I can commute to work, in 18 minutes, without honking my horn or looking up from my newspaper. It means that I can go out, get uber-tipsy, and not have to worry about how I'll get home.

But there are some downsides to public transit, as well. There's the obvious ones, like getting stuck underground for 10 minutes (thankfully, I've never encountered longer) and creeps asking if they can rub your feet. But my complaint of late is that public transportation is not good if you're on a date. I'm thinking of any show set in the city, Sex and the City comes to mind, and the cute couple goes on a date. At the end of the night, he walks her home. They kiss, usually in some romantic, dark setting, standing on the steps, no people around. Maybe she invites him up. But when you have to part ways on a subway platform, the romantic aspects of the city are nowhere to be found. Granted, the D.C. subway platforms are clean and generally tolerable, but they're not the place you aspire to for a first kiss. It's late. There are drunk people on the platform, some of who are inevitably staring at you, because it's a pretty quiet place at 2 am. And if you're not good with PDAs, this worries you even more when it gets to be time to say good night.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, this is a problem I've only sort of encountered. I've gotten to the here-we-are moment, but not the this-is-how-its-going-to-work one. If anybody has any advice on handling this, help a girl out.

Random side note: I submitted, for the first time ever, a short story to a magazine for publication. I think it's damn good, but we'll see if I get a response. Everybody cross your fingers for me.

Today's Run

Jan 11, 2008
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I ran this on Sunday, 2 1/2 miles yesterday, and then this again today. I would have run further yesterday, but it started pouring halfway down King Street! I came home completely soaked. Joy.