Anti-Tsunami

Here are the Cliff’s Notes to the last few months:

So much has happened that in summary it seems mundane. I am trying to revive this thing as a sort of mental wash, so this might be like when you cook crepes; I am curing the pan.

I think about my dad a lot. The hardest part is the finality of it; that I don’t have him available at my disposal. The direct aftermath was hard. The month pretty well blew, but time passed and I really had my will challenged, and I left stronger and more intact. The times that are hardest for me are (1) when I’m flying on a plane (I think about all of his visits to me and I see the ground through his eyes, and imagine what he was thinking en route), (2) going to Glide (I always felt like I was going to cry, but did when I went last time; like a faucet), (3) receiving a package from his wife with pictures I had never seen and his prized Movado watch. I feel like I understand my priorities a little more. Losing my Ipod and petty fights are just not important.

Through the trips to Florida, I really formed a strong connection with my nephew Parker. He is so cute it pains me. He associates me with dogs and the Ocean.

After spending the holidays with mom and Basil in Austin, Anu and I embarked on a road trip from Arizona (Scottsdale, Tempe, Flagstaff, Grand Canyon, Sedona) to California (Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, San Francisco). I then went on to Seattle and Vancouver. Aside from getting stuck on the PCH at night with flying gravel and rough roads, being chased by wild javelinas, and almost having to stay in Canada (and traversing a blizzard from Vancouver to Seattle in a massive Nissan Armada), the trip went without a hitch. Actually, it was great fun. As you all know I love California, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Last weekend Sarah and I went to New York, and it was too cold and I bought a great cashmeres sweater and I ate too many carbs (bagels, pizza, waffles, cream puffs, pancakes, naan, fries, rice….oops). (Side note: I need to start working out. I am feeling guily.) I love the Upper West Side - yay for Zagar’s. And, the East Village. And drinking flavored Belgian Lambics. 

Through both of these trips, I saw lots of friends along the way, and reconnected with them. There was lots of flaking (on both sides) - but the good friends I saw.  I am accept flakiness as part of getting older and busier with less synchronized schedules.

With that said, it’s been nice to be back in D.C. I am feeling pretty well-settled here. Last night was fun in particular. I went to my good friend "water polo Mike’s" home and he cooked me a homemade dinner and we chilled with his very cool roommates. Trying to keep life a little more simple.

Trying not to worry about money. Had a couple of unsettling money troubles (father’s funeral + costs, property tax and insurance + and road trip icky credit card debt). I am highly considering moving to Virginia in July to save money on taxes and rent (in keeping with my habit of moving constantly). My old roommate Ahmed moved to Dubai. My new roommate is here virtually never, and puts me to shame in terms of decorating.

Work has been good. I lost Sasha (big loss), but hired a new Assistant Director, new to the world of higher ed — and she seems like she will be great! Hiring was an arduous process, but I feel like we have a great person, and she is starting on Monday and will be living for her first month with Sarah. World’s colliding…

I lost a lot of friends to other cities since coming to D.C., but now I’m adding people. Susan Marcantoni from law school moved here. We had dinner tonight and it was lovely to see her! Also, I must note that people visited me a lot more when I lived in San Francisco, even though I was exponentially farther away.

I am having a big birthday party. If you are in D.C., I hope you come. I was going to go to NC this weekend but am abstaining because I need some constancy.

My father died and it was the worst experience of my life.

This post is dedicated to the wonderful friends and family and acquaintances who wrote me or called me during these terrible days. I tangibly felt your love and energy, and they pulled me through. And I still need them. In particular, hearing from people who have experienced this same, inexplicable pain, was extremely helpful and reassuring. I hope that it is a long time before any of you lose your parents, but know that this is reciprocal and that I am there for you…

Here’s the story.

I used to somewhat dread calling my dad. Not because he did anything but love me, and give me incredible advice, but because it was at least an hour-long investment. The last few months were different. The conversations got shorter and shorter. Leading up to my recent visit, the calls were less than a minute and we were speaking many times a week. I know the hardest thing for me is coming up; it will be when I am walking to work on Monday. I usually called my dad during my walk to work and get off the phone when I get to the front door. It is a ritual. 

I came to Florida 2 weeks ago for work, which was an act of fate. My mom and I picked up dad at his house so that we could spend the whole day together on Saturday. As soon as I saw him, I knew something was different. Reflexively, I almost started crying. His face had cuts all over it because he had shaved hastily, which was abnormal for him. His hair was strangely straight, though he had all of it and few greys. He had no body fat. His smile was crooked and eyes glassy, but still filled with love. Looking back, he had a look on his face that this was the last time we would spend together. I don’t know if I would have described it that way when I saw it, but now I know. 

He had a really hard time getting in the car and wanted a low key day. We drove to Plantation, a suburb with a lot of memories for us. We first went to one of those little bagel delis, and he had a really hard time waiting to be seated. He ordered a bagel and a smear. He was drinking lots of coffee. At his request, we drove over to the post office, which is about 30 minutes from his house.  On the way, we passed the mall with the Macy’s that he used to shop at. He loved that Macy’s. He used to sit in the mall and watch people pass by. The same mall that I used to frequent on the weekends as a middle-schooler. We went to my mom’s apartment. Normally, he would have resisted going to the apartment, given his resentment for my mom’s husband, but he wasn’t fussy. He sat outside on the balcony. It was a windy day. His hair flew in the wind. He drank a special chai tea that my mom prepared for him. He was extremely reflective. We all went to my sister’s yacht club afterwards. He ordered conch chowder and a salmon sandwich. He was not his normal, talkative self. He was just observing. We asked him to see a movie, Borat, with us, but he wanted to go home. We walked him in.

Apparently, he slept for the next 3 days, barely leaving his room.

My dad became a pretty devout Democrat in his later years, and I called him about the election results on Wednesday. He never sounded so bad. He was on the verge of tears telling me about all the pain he was in and that he needed to go to the hospital. He hadn’t eaten in months. Like me, the guy loved eating. He just couldn’t swallow. He got to the point where he would chew and spit food out. All the while, his favorite channel the last few months was FoodTV.

My mom called me on Saturday to tell me he had been admitted to the hospital. I called and he did not sound very good. They needed to take some tests to determine what the problem was. My mom, sister, niece, and nephew went to visit him on Wednesday and said that he was in relatively good spirits and reminiscing about the past a lot. I spoke with dad intermittently over the next few days, but he wanted to get off the phone really quickly every time.

My brother Dale flew down to see him for a few days and told me the problems were in his pancreas, liver, and kidneys. Meanwhile, I called the doctor, who never called me back. 

On Friday, I had planned to go to New York, but I knew I shouldn’t go. On Saturday, after lunch, I got a call from my brother Lester who told me that dad’s illness was immediately terminal — that he had asked to have all the tubes taken out and that he had 24-48 hours to live. It seemed like a nightmare. I asked to speak with him. He sounded very weak and very sad. I told him that I loved him, that I would miss him. I called Sarah, who picked me up. She called Ruth, who knew my dad. I requested that Ruth’s mother call my father — because he was extremely fond of her. She instead spoke with Lester, who is now extremely fond of her.

I caught the next plane. Mom, Jess, and Basil drove me straight to the hospice where dad was. When we arrived, he was conscious and in extreme pain. He was restless, and begging for sleep medication. He had not slept for 3 days, I suspect because he had great anxiety about dying. He kept wailing for the nurse to give him additional sleep medication and stated "let me die". This was one of the hardest experiences of my life. My sister, mom, and I cried together in a dark room while listening to him jostle in torment. I don’t know who it was worse for. I tried to tell him to relax and to remind him of stories from my youth - when I threw my shoe out the window in San Diego, our visit to the wailing wall in Israel. He kept on touching his face and his nose, I suspect, because he knew this was his last experience of consciousness.

At about 2 am we left. I slept ok that night.

The next day I spent at the hospice. He was in a much more restful state. My sister, Karen, and Lester, spent most of the day with us. We called his best friend Norman, my cousin, and others. In all about 12 people came to the hospice during the day.

Lester and Karen brought out a lot of tears in all of us. We reminisced, spoke with him, caressed his face. It was draining. One of the hardest things was looking at the resemblance between he and I. It was uncanny. I have his nose, his chin, his eyes. It was like watching myself, or at least a piece of me, go.

We begged him to let go. The day felt like 100 days. His breathing gradually changed. He lost all circulation. The process was grueling. We all talked about how cruel it was for us to put dogs to sleep, but make our bodies suffer like that. Twice during the day we got him to respond to us, despite the pain killers. The second time was the most poignant. He hadn’t opened his eyes in probably 20 hours. But, we were all crying and holding him — his three kids — he opened his eyes — we all screamed with joy. We told him goodbye and that we loved him. And, though he had no water in his body — he had not had a drink in 48 hours — he looked right at me and, a little tear welled up in his eye. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and his pulse markedly decreased. He died 3 hours later, at about 4 in the morning. We all sat there with him, crying. On the way home, I almost had a nervous breakdown. I threw my cell phone one the ground in anger and it broke in three pieces. I found all three pieces, put it together, and it miraculously still works.

The next day we made the funeral arrangements. I want to make a nonprofit funeral home, because this is an awful business. They take advantage of your sorrow and vulnerability and it is totally immoral. We picked up some pictures that none of us had ever seen before. He was such a good looking guy. They used to call him "Dapper Ted".  We set the funeral for this morning.

The rabbi spoke with us. He was a wonderful young man, about my age. He had us describe him, and find a story that served as a parable. My sister Karen ended up coming up with it — basically she talked about the wonderful products of his dysfunction, like his unlikely friendship with my ex-stepdad Marty, and my birth. We then prayed and viewed his body. He looked beautiful and peaceful. We put him in a beautiful suit with a little hankerchief in the suit pocket. We buried him with pictures of his kids and grandkids on his chest.

The service, which was Jewish Reform, was beautiful. He would have loved it. He used to love swimming and just sitting in the sun for hours and thinking. I learned all sorts of things about him during the eulogy. The most interesting thing was the other lives he had lived before I was born, and how different his relationships were with my brothers. He used to play football with them, and go sailing, and lift weights. I had no idea. My sister, Jessica, gave a short eulogy, which meant a lot to me. I sang a song. I kept my eyes closed and let it all out. When I sat down, my circulation was all messed up.

I came home to my mom’s. His deceased 1st cousin’s widow, Ellie, came over. I learned some genelogy from her and we discussed dad.

The thing I will miss the most about dad was his incredible love for and pride in me. I don’t think I had a bigger cheerleader out there for me. He was so proud that I graduated from law school, something that he should have done. He was very touched when I sent him pictures of he and I from that ceremony; it was one of the few times I ever heard him cry. He also wanted the best for me in a very true and pure way. He was initially very against my moving to California, but he knew I was very happy there and didn’t want me to leave.

I will also miss his wonderful guidance and advice. He was a friend I could always count on. I want everyone to know that my life coachy-ness is from him. My dad is pragmatic and logical and was the go-to guy for someone who needed to make a decision. He was the first person I called when I needed any advice about life. I plan to cite him for the rest of mine.

My dad was my living connection to Judaism, the portal to my family. I didn’t need to call my other family members, because he always updated me on their happenings.

I will even miss the things I thought I didn’t like about him; his mischevious quirks — his flirting with younger women, messy eating, his crazy illicit business ideas, his loud speaking voice, his silly jokes ("that’s not a name, that’s a disease"), his alter ego, Carlos Rivera. Those things made him more loveable.

There is just a big, inexplicable gap in my heart. I don’t know how it will be filled.

I am so happy on so many levels. I am happy that dad and I reconciled after many years of not speaking after a terrible divorce. Thank god for financial aid. With that said, I don’t think we had one fight or problem with each other for the last 10 years.  I am so happy that I riled up the power to tell him that I loved him for the first time I could remember, on his birthday when I was in law school.  I am so happy that despite his physical limitations, many of his last adventures — trips to Minnesota, Connecticut, and, of course, California — happened with and because of me. I am so thankful that I thought it was his 80th birthday (and not 79th) and bought him a bigger present this year than I would normally send. I am so happy that I came here two weeks ago. And, that I caught him when he was still conscious. I am glad that he was on pain medication. I loved meeting all of these friends and family members that I had heard about for years. The fact that they shared my pain was reassuring.

I love my dad. His death will not change that. He meant so much to me. I know if there is anything out there that I have guardian angel watching me. If anyone learns anything from this, heed this advice (which is exactly what my dad would say): Avoid regrets. Reconsider your priorities. Stay connected to your family and loved ones. Treat people with kindness and respect. Say "I love you" when you love someone. Make the extra effort to show someone you care when they are alive.

It’s been a crazy week.

Florida
I went to Florida last week for the first time in a long time. It was a lot of fun; probably my best solo visit to Florida ever. My mom was my date the University of Miami Reunion, which I attended for work/benchmarking purposes and she was, of course, the consummate date/a lot of fun. She got hit on by an Engineering alumnus, befriended the former head of the UMAA, and discovered flavored Bacardi. We watched Borat, shared a meal at a late-night diner, and stayed at a nice hotel in Coral Gables, which is very charming, and certainly where I would live if I made South Florida home.

Overall, It was a landmark visit, seeing as it has been almost 10 years since I’ve formally lived in Florida, and poignant because my whole life up to that point had been about escaping it. My relationship with Jessica and Doug felt more stabilized. They gave me many, many pairs of nice dress socks, which I needed desperately.

I had a lot of time to bond with my niece and nephew, Parker and Emma. They are both so cute. I am not even being biased. I have a special bond with Parker that is hard to put into words. He kept on asking for little old me to carry him; he told me he loves me! He called me anju - like pear in French. Emma likes stories; I made up one that may have traumatized her — basically switching King Midas’s gold power to chocolate (she seemed pretty anti-chocolate for the rest of the time I was there, which is atypical for her).

I also spent a day with my dad, which was really hard. I haven’t seen him in about 1.5 years, since he visited in SF. We spent the day driving around the old breakfast delis of Plantation, stopping by his PO Box, driving to Boca, then my sister’s yacht club. We just reminisced a lot. He has lost all of his body fat; he clavicle protrudes quite dramatically. As soon as I saw him, I had the strong urge to cry, as if her were already dead. The man that I knew is no longer here. He seems so withdrawn, like he totally lost his spirit. Anyway, I think spending time together brought him joy.

I saw Jen Hearn, which is always nice. When I am with her (and her
husband JC), it’s like a time warp. She just gives me the warm feeling
of home. I also had my co-worker Sasha there with her boyfriend, and it
was so nice to see how naturally they all got along. I also loved
seeing the way Jen lives, in a cozy apartment in Miami’s Design District. We also went to South Beach — the place we used to frequent on the weekends - which just seemed a little depressing - with regular women dressed like hussies.

When I was there, I felt really conflicted because I have so many memories there, and I love Cuban and Jewish food. It feels strangely comfortable and it is my home in a lot ways, but I resent so many thing about it; it’s anti-intellectual culture (you should watch the dumbed-down mudslingy political ads), the hypermaterialism, the car/plaza/chain/parking lot infrastructure. It’s just a depressing soul-sucking pit. I could never again live there happily.

Then, the next few days were really up and down:

I returned to a wet D.C after a 4-hour delay, and a roller coaster flight.

I was tickled pink with Tuesday’s election results. It was so nice to feel victory for the first time in my voting life. The last two elections remind me of having my hopes crushed with Cindy Dubuque - of just feeling really disappointed and defeated, and a lot about relocating Canada (yay for Thorben who is moving to Montreal). This felt like a bar mitzvah, a wedding (a good one), and a birthday all wrapped into one.

I am also just crazy about Obama. I think he has everything going for him; he’s the golden child/the new JFK. I don’t care that he’s young. I think his race is a plus. I should mention here that almost every cab driver in D.C. listens to political radio. It reminds me of South Africa. I love that.

Tuesday night, my friend Mike, a professional water polo player, took me to see a play at the Woolley Mammoth after good Thai - something about Josie and the Chinese Elvis. It was a weird show, and I didn’t connect to it. Thankfully, neither did he. The middle-aged woman sitting next to me rubbed up against me when they turned down the lights after intermission. It was strange.

Afterwards, we went to a cool bar called the Warehouse. The bartender was drunk and funny and kept on giving us free shots of imperfect pumpkin pies (a mix of goldschlager and baileys does the trick). I left a little silly. We met a funny intern named Kelly who went to the bar to order cranberry juice because he is on Cipro. He had no sense of humor, but was nice. And young. And, he works at Gifford’s ice cream.

On Wednesday morning, I had a really sad follow-up conversation with my dad where he told me how crippled and depressed he felt. The next day, he was hospitalized (which I didn’t find out about until Saturday). I am losing him, and I feel really mixed about it. It’s so sad that he won’t ever be the way I remember him, and how quickly he degenerated since even the last time I saw him. He doesn’t believe his life has purpose. My siblings have seemingly given up on him. And, it’s just so sad that my mom is only 13 years behind him, despite how youthful she is now, she is not too far behind. It is also sad the perspectives they developed about friendships, family, etc. It seems the wisdom they have developed in life can be summed up as "life is disappointment." It always ends badly, in sickness and death. Friendships and family inevitably fall apart. There is nobody you can really count on. I see how they arrived at that. I am feeling existentialist. On the optimistic side of existentialism, if that makes sense. Anyway, he is stable. But, still in the hospital.

I also experienced check fraud. Someone went in my desk at work and wrote a $650 check for "rent" to "Brenda Rogers".

And, a good friend of mine lost one of her best friends at 23 years old. The woman just died suddenly. It is an incredible tragedy.

And, another friend of mine who told me about a stalker, was stalked by the stalker, right in front of me. The guy was institutionalized. I hate stalkers.

It was eventful.

On the bright side of things, Andrea came to visit me. I just love her in a very deep way. The whole weekend, we cuddled and talked and I showed her my new city, and introduced her to lots of people who are important to me. And, things always feel the same with her. We shared yummy meals, and caught up seamlessly. When I dropped her off at the bus this morning, I felt an immense sense of emptiness and again the feeling that I was about to cry; like there was a cavity in my heart. But, I just caught a cab, grinned and beared it.

Instead of sulking, I had lunch at my favorite little French bistro, Cafe la Rouche, with 2 new friend s(yet someone else who Josh introduced me to from Cornell). They were really cool, D.C. freshmen. Some people at the table next to us overheard me talking about college, which turned into a full-fledged consulting session.

Oh yeah, I actually have a group of friends out here in D.C., which I didn’t think would happen. And, they are good people! Makes me feel more at home. We had a supremely fun Halloween with apple bobbing, women’s arm wrestling, cheese grits, pumpkin carving, strange picture-taking and other antics. For halloween, I was a burrito (c/o Bay to Breakers). Well, I must say Halloween proper was a little weird. I was told off by a pirate playing "bibbity, bibbity boo"  from Beauty and the Beast on guitar at Cafe la Rouche, after he asked to play for our table, and I respectfully declined. Also, I learned the lesson never to go to the urban neighborhood that is celebrating Halloween (i.e. Castro in SF, or Georgetown in DC).

I think I am going to NYC next weekend.

What else? Akeisha got a job at GW, which will force me to work out all the time. I need a work-out Jiminy Cricket.

It is rainy and cold and miserable outside. I LOVE mist, but hate rain.

Dan Rather taped a show in the building where my office is.

Tonight I got to speak Xhosa at a U of Capetown alumni event I organized at GW. I met the former ambassador to South Africa and the President of UCT. I LOVE Capetown.

I’ve had all these interesting conversations with the President of GW about clothing.

Reunions happened. I almost died from stress. But am OK again.
I was nominated for Employee of the Month in my division - how Office Space is that?

I decided I love Extreme Makeover, and I’ve been speaking more positively about America, since before the election. I also kind of like dressing more preppy. I didn’t think I’d get into it. Assimilation is weird, eh?

D.C. has an interesting race called "High Heels". Drag queens line 17th St. in Dupont and dress like politicos or in uniqued themed garb and run down the street in 3-inch heels. The prize is glory.

I am increasingly interested in rolfing.

Anu and I are doing a 2-week road-trip from Scottsdale and Sedona through the Grand Canyon, Vegas, to LA, Santa Barbara, and back home to SF. I then fly out to Seattle and Vancouver for work and play.

I gave myself a migraine yesterday perhaps because so much information is in my head. Hopefully, this blog can serve as a way for me to empty my mind of needless thoughts.

The world seems pretty crazy right now. Being in D.C. has made me much more aware of the things going on.

Watching the Hugo Chavez, Fidel Castro, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad combo form is eerily reminiscent of the days before World War II. I understand why they would want to band in defense against US imperialism and hypocrisy. It’s just very sad that a crazy man who doesn’t believe the Holocaust happened looks somewhat reasonable, because he uses logic in his speechmaking — as opposed to Bush. I can’t believe that 40% of Americans approve of him. The scary thing is that our "democratic" theocracy/fascism justifies other nations making decisions that are dangerous to western civilization, in the name of parity.

I want to make clear that I appreciate certain aspects of western civilization. I enjoy diversity/multiculturalism/pluralism, free speech and press (though perhaps they are so dominated by special interest groups that they are not "free" - also LET GO OF THE SPINACH…it’s NOT THAT IMPORTANT), civil rights protections (despite the movement to halt monogamous relationships between gay people, and of course the Patriot Act).

I hate feeling afraid for my personal safety and well-being because of terrible and oppressive decisions that my "elected" government has made. I read a radical Canadian newspaper article that urged Muslim New Yorkers and Washingtonians to leave their cities http://www.canadafreepress.com/2006/paul-williams091606.htm. It corroborates with media I’ve read in Utne about the mentality that we’ve bred.

I swear I am my own case study; the world’s biggest hypocrite. I watch Al Gore’s movie, but have produced more waste since it than before it. I use disposable everything and pump air conditioning into my life. I talk about complacency in our generation, but don’t do anything about it. I feel stretched for time, but it’s all "me" time, rather than "us" (community) time. Where has activism gone? Has it evaporated into the blogosphere?  Are we just ranting to each other aimlessly, reconfirming our beliefs? Have you seen this Matt Lauer clip: http://time.blogs.com/daily_dish/2006/09/youtube_of_the__8.html ? I applaud him for approaching Bush head-on. In today’s world, that’s bigger than the whole bra burning movement.

I feel like liberal activism has gone by the wayside, and evangelicals are the true activists, shifting the paradigm righter than been in a long time. Next Friday, I am going check Jesus Camp, the movie, http://www.jesuscampthemovie.com/ about a new movement to inculcate American youth with charasmatic Christian values that cause them seizures, and other such physical expressions.

I think the new AIDS policy (mandating regular testing) is good, albeit intrusive. Though it may dilute stigmas (which the marketing overstates), it promotes the greater good (better care and more avoidance). I believe Americans, like myself with regard to recycling, especially in our hyper-consumerist, low attention span, state, need rewards and ramifications to actually take action. Otherwise, we’ll be too distracted by this fantasy otherworld that we have created.

What else? I am totally consumed by Washington, D.C. work culture. I’ve been working late hours every day. Sometimes I feel more like am in law than in higher education. (emphasis on the "sometimes") In D.C., there is no work-life balance; everything is work, work, work. I see people doing the work "walk of shame" at all hours - 9, 10, etc. Many people go in on Sundays. I don’t go to NY or get out of the city as much as I like or anticipated. Also, I’ve been recruited a bunch of times for other jobs. I have no intention to leave, but it is flattering, and good to feel marketable.

I’ve also been shaving every day. My face is not reacting well to this. Do any guys have suggestions for what to do to get a clean shave sans razor burn?

I am so happy Sarah Scopel is here. Sarah is one of my favorite people in the world, and someone who I never know I would share a city with again. The way I describe the feeling of a friendship like that is that it feels like someone else is present; like Andrea and others, she makes me feel so full of company. I am so excited to do "nothing" with Sarah; to watch TV shows, walk aimlessly, cook dinners, and just BS. Those are the best friendships.

I recently had the realization that I like cool, misty weather; it puts me in my element. The sun sucks away my energy - it makes me feel like i need to do something active. I don’t like heavy rain, just a tad of gloom, with a swift wind. It inspires me to read, get coffee, watch a movie, contemplate life. Maybe Portland is my calling?

Speaking of which, I now am like every other dummy in that I have an excellent gym membership that I do not use. Chastise me. Please!

What else? I think I have a terrible allergy to berries! Very sad I know. I had a terrible sore throat and inflamed tongue before I left for San Francisco. To try to address it, I would drink smoothies everyday, and it didn’t go away. I travelled to SF and it miraculously disappeard (in a new no-smoothie world). Finally, I ate a fruit salad with strawberries, blueberries, and rasberries and Whomp — there it was. Also, I like acai a lot. Great antioxidant.

So I went to SF. I had a blast, but it was not as sad being there as I expected. It made me realize that I have a lot of good going on here. I like my life, my friends, my job, and the city, more than enough. The food isn’t as good (though last weekend I had excellent Korean, and dim sum — yay for turnip cake - YAY), and the weather isn’t as gloomy, but there are some good people here. It’s very transient. Last weekend, I lost 4 friends — Megan and Matt (to Portland), Alpa (to Bay Area), and Ji Sun (to Italy/New Zealand). I love Macalester people. I had an interesting discussion about the Mac culture. My friend Danai was talking about it in reference to her play. Her co-star is from Howard and they were having a Howard night. In the debriefing, her co-star said HU and people started hooting and hollering. Tonight is Mac’s night and she doesn’t what to say (MAC ATTACK?) or what the reaction will be. Whenever I reconnect with a Macite, even if we didn’t know each other before, we have the most interesting conversations. I saw a fellow Macite at one of the going away parties and she put it best, at Mac it was cool to be the post-awkward, hipster, aloof person, who didn’t care about Mac. But, when you leave you realize that those were the wrong people to act that way to, and you really want to know each other.

Brianne had a lovely engagement party and it was great to see her and her fiance’s families finally meet, and embrace, after 4 years of dating.

One of my friends Mike (a professional water polo player for the Washington Wetskins - a sport that I am now an aspiring spectator of) is the brains and brawn behind this contest, which is getting international attention… http://www.ucsusa.org/scienceidol

It’s funny how people here are OBSESSED with Trader Joes.

I am still paying off credit card debt. 3 more months and I should be FREE! I just reshuffled my balances, increased my credit limits (b/c it’s good for your credit), and requested lower rates. I can now charge a scary amount on my card. It’s good security. And, I feel good above having built my credit without using my parents’ credit.

My dad turned 79 last week. I was off by a year, so I thought he was 80. Thinking this was the big bday, I bought him a $90 box of Chicago’s best foods, i.e. pizza, cheesecake, etc. He’s been losing lots of weight and eating at home, so I think/hope it was good. Poor guy — two of my siblings (who he raised) never even bothered to call him. I know he has some bad karma, but nobody deserves that.

I am missing Glide. I think I’m going to check out All Souls unitarian church.

I am going to host a big Thanksgiving party at my place for all of us unaccounted for folks. Thorben is coming down. I haven’t been to FL in over 1.5 years! I am going for work in November (I am going to attend the University of Miami reunion as an observer).

I randomly google people (including you). I found an old friend from high school: www.raquelmarmor.com. WOW is all I have to say. Would’ve never predicted that.

I am excited to be in DC for the Presidential election. I am looking at Mark Warner, Russ Feingold, and BIll Richardson as my candidates of choice. It could change. On the R side, the one thing I love about McCain is high focus on campaign finance reform. I know the candidates will find loopholes, but I feel that it will still ultimately reduce the disgusting amount of money that is wasted on mudslinging and special interests rather than roads and clean water.

I am a control freak when it comes to my friends making decisions that I think are bad. I need to let go where it’s not useful or appreciated! I want one friend to eat more fruits and vegetables, my roommate’s brother to apply to the right schools, and my other friend to get his act together, drop the laziness and victimization, and get a job. I love controlling choice systems. Like last night, we went out for tapas and I said, "OK, this is what we’ll do - let’s each choose 3 things…"

The other day we were talking about our first signs of aging. For me it was:
(1) I need to wear comfortable shoes
(2) I need to sleep on a high quality mattress
(3) I pee a lot more; I need to get up in the middle of the night to do so.

The other day I had the most surreal experience. Helicopters are always flying around the District. On Thursday morning at 4:30 am, I was awaken by the sound of a chopper hovering right above my apartment. The Vietnam-reminiscent sound did not subside; for 45 minutes this machine, with its high-beam search lights glaring in my window, made regimented rotations above my flat. I fully got out of bed — not sure if I was dreaming at first — and checked the Internet to see if there was something major going on and couldn’t fall asleep again until after 6. I have no idea.

Part of why the helicopter experience was so off-putting is because the noise woke me up from a horrific dream. Here goes: A friend took me outside, and randomly put a lethal sci-fi-like laser gun in my hand. He had another laser gun and shot a guy, and killed him. He told me he was going to run away to Mexico and dispose of the gun. He offered for me to go with him. I declined and ran inside, with my laser gun in hand, and didn’t know what to do. First, I hid it between the mattress and boxspring. Then, as I heard the sirens in the distance, I decided I was going to tell them the truth, though the evidence would weigh against me (though I had no animus toward the dead guy). Then, I woke up.

There’s a lot of crime here in DC — random crime. A couple weeks ago, this dude got murdered in his sleep a couple blocks away (Swann St.). Note: I live in a posh neighborhood. Looks like there may be foul play, but still weird. In Bethesda (the Palo Alto of DC), some one-legged Iraq War vet, got attacked by a bunch of hoodlums. And, you know about the 27-year old rising star who had his throat slashed in Georgetown. The homeless people here aren’t as aggressive as they are in SF, but the streets are dark, and people lurk in the shadows. There’s always the creepy, albeit romantic, sounds of crickets looming in the background, which adds to the feeling.

With that said, DC has been good. I am having a lot more substantive conversations about politics and the state of the world. I missed that; especially because my career is largely bereft of intellectualism. Danai (my amazing friend who’s award-winning play, In the Continuum, is in town for 6 weeks) went to dinner (Kanlaya Thai) with a nice group of people I compiled. She commented on how the conversation reminded her so much of what she liked about Macalester. I’ve heard that before from other Mac friends sampling my world, with regard to other circles, and it made me feel really lucky.

At dinner, there was a lot of baseline ideological accordance, with tweaky, interesting disagreements. Our discussions were like abstracts of PhD theses. We talked about how multiculturalism/pluralism define American culture, and are destroying America, as we export the model and apply it to a global context; about how the American middle class is being erased due to outsourcing; about how our less patriarchal system creates less of a "need" for women to be in relationships, and about our skewed, ever-changing perceptions of "needs"; we spoke about how September 11 was predictable, and conversation about it too "easy". All of these things are blog-worthy in and of themselves. I also watch the news a lot more; not because I feel like I have to, but because it is interesting.

I find myself thinking about the Midwest a lot more these days; glorifying the amenities and friendliness of Chicago and Minneapolis. With my salary, I could live like a king in the Twin Cities. I could buy a 3-bedroom house near Macalester — in that lovely, safe, tree-lined little area with book stores, record stores, coffee shops and nice people. I never thought about that when I was in California. Or Connecticut. I feel like I am lacking certain things right now; like a sailor with scurvy who needs some citrus.

I was supposed to go to NY this weekend, but I battled a sore throat (a weird, very painful one, sans cold) this week and am headed to SF next week, so I don’t want to relapse or overextend myself.

I saw Jeff in DC yesterday. Was nice to see an old friend. He had an altercation with our waitress that was embarassing and funny (he got his food late and demanded that she take it off the bill; she got all ghetto and defensive in the SNL way).  That kind of encapsulates a night with Jeff. We left the restaurant at about 12:30 am last night. As the place was thinning out, a group of about 10 yuppies early-20-somethings entered and thinking Jeff was the host, asked if the restaurant was still serving drinks. Jeff said - "yes - just sit down at any table", and they complied. Also, we have had the ongoing fight about the correct pronunciation of Uganda, which he pronounces "oooooganda". I met the woman who he cites as being the expert last night. And she was with me. Oh, the glory!

Danai and I hadn’t seen each other in a while, and we were discussing how we had changed. She showed me a picture of her and her boyfriend. I analyzed it for about a minute and spewed out all of my perceptions of their relationship. It was dead-on. I feel like the John Edwards (not Presidential nominee, but Crossing Over guy) of relationships. I think it’s because I’ve been surrounded by so many f-ed up ones I developed a keen sense — through "thin-slicing" (Blink reference) of the healthy-ness/spark in a relationship (don’t ask if you don’t want the truth; or tell me if you want me to lie). Anyway, the way I’ve changed is that despite this talent, I’ve let go of other people’s baggage (in the ife coach realm in general). I used to assume liability for other people’s lives and decision. I still have the potential to do that, but I stop myself. I realized that the few instances where my friends have assumed that pain for me, haven’t propelled me forward at all.

Reflecting on my mom’s visit, it’s interesting how we had a lot less to do because my life is so abundant with material goods. She really wants me to have kids. I’m not feeling it. I wonder if I will (?) My dad’s getting a lot worse. He is usually very talkative, but seems to have given up. Makes you really ponder your mortality.

I am switching more and more to myspace. I think I am going to start posting my blogs there too. I held out with friendster for longer, but I am succombing — little by little.

I really want to start college consulting. I’m going to do it!

Things are pretty good.

No Fried Chicken

I went to Kentucky and had a great time; ’twas a lynch-free visit. Notably, I really like Macalester alumni — who are always smart, self-deprecating, have hidden talents, and just know how to grind, let loose and talk about (and then make fun of) hegemony, interchangeably. We had such a blast. Kentucky was way cooler than I expected/remembered. You may remember that I dated a girl in high school from KY, and my predominant memory of it centered around large bales of hay that were in her backyard (as well as vampire animal killers). And, I saw some hay this time too. Also, there was plentiful sweet tea and lemonade, porches, friendly people, sticky weather, lots of green grass, Bluegrass (which I’m developing a taste for) and funky little shops. It was a pleasant respite. I stayed at one of the coolest hotels I’ve ever seen - the 21C - which is a museum. I also did well playing darts at a bar where a strange old man with a long white beard ogled the young ladies I played with; they had good chicken fingers though. My friend married a Malagasi man; they imported a Malagasi band, which rocked. It was an interesting multicultural experience. I realized that EVERY Mac wedding I have been to (approaching a dozen) has been between an inter-racial or international couple.

I hate Overstock (sort of)
Overstock gave me a hundred bucks for all of my troubles. At first, I refused to buy something with the credit. Then, I figured it would hurt them more to deplete their merchandise. So I tried to stretch the money as far as I could and purchased a watch, a table lamp, a book, and a CD. I vowed I would continue to hate them; but somehow I don’t deep inside. Dammit. I still won’t order from them on principle; or at least I won’t admit it.

Bantu PRJ
I bought a new couch from craigslist. I hired a mover from craigslist as well. Turns out he is from South Africa and spoke Zulu. I impressed him with my Xhosa. It was a magical exchange, and kind of strange for his Salvadorian helper who was like - "aren’t you Latino?" Identity is a strange concept. Did I share that David Blaine is a PR Jew?

Material Boy
From the whole overstock.com thing, I have been thinking about material things that I lack. It turns out, there aren’t many. A bunch of people were sitting on my couch 2 weeks ago watching and poking fun at a Jack LaLane informercial for his juicer. I thought it was so funny at the time. But, subliminally, I cannot get juicers off my mind. Now I want one really badly. A good one. And, a panini machine.

I am also wearing increasingly more khaki and polo shirts. It’s seriously like a uniform here. I don’t hate it. Until I go to NY. (I am going to NYC this weekend. And SF the following weekend.)

Patriarchal Visit
My mom came to visit last week. I call it a "patriarchal visit." All she did was cook and clean for me. All I did was work. We managed to try a bunch of restaurants for restaurant week: the Ritz Carlton, Agraria, Zengo’s, and Nora. I have a terrible canker sore. A really bad one, which I developed after Zengo. I am thinking about seeing an oral pathologist because it is so uncomfortable.

Here is my review for the worst restaurant:

In sum, the place has a cool story in that they use all kinds
of organic local ingredients. After this experience, all I have to say
is "pass the Velveeta."   

Job
The job is still going well. I have one co-worker who clearly doesn’t like me; a young lad who’s at a parallel level in the hierarchy. He wouldn’t acknowledge me for the longest time, and kept on trying to go behind my back. I refuse to have a nemesis. Initially, I just played it cool and, when it was getting worse, finally confronted him. After that, things seem to be going better. It’s especially hard to deal with people who don’t like you without a concrete reason — either because they don’t like your vibe or are intimidated by you. All in all, though, things are going really well at work and I enjoy it a lot. (Interestingly, I’ve been recruited a lot lately, and a lot of people have been forwarding me jobs — dream jobs even — in like Los Angeles and stuff! But, there is no way I would leave my job for a while; I need to stay put and grow.)

Lahore: the fastest way to my heart
My assistant director is the sweetest person ever. Her family lives in San Francisco and she went to Lahore Karahi, not once, but twice. I can’t wait for it. My body aches for Lahore. I also really miss chiropractic.

Meeting Up
My friend Mike and I galavanted around the city on Sunday. We went to the Natural History museum, saw the Hope diamond and insects, and went to an interesting networking dinner with meetup.com at this subpar Burmese restaurant. Meet-up was a weird but interesting experience, especially for me because I am not looking for a job — or to meet people. I mean this was Masters-thesis-level interesting.

It was so "meta" — people meeting with the sole purpose of "conversing." In the beginning, we had to get up and introduce ourselves. It was like a walking singles ad. "Hi. My name is Andrew. I’m an Alumni Director. I like meeting new people, musical theater, and kombucha." I didn’t say that, but you get the gist. There were different conversation groups at different tables, ranging from self-help and life-coaching to spirituality and miracles. There were window-tinting entrepreneurs, jobless professors, and unemployed law graduates. There was a lot of pressure to converse and most of the conversations revolved around analyzing the concept of meetup — at least for us. A few people walked up to me and crafted fake conversations for the
purposes of collecting my business card. I had 3 follow-up e-mails in
my Inbox this morning.

Afterwards, met up with a new friend Lindsey and her guy Hassan, who are livin large in Gallery Place. We had one of those long/easy/stimulating conversations that last for hours and you drink lots of beer, but don’t need to act drunk to be having fun.

What else? Macalester was rated to this hokey Kaplan rating as a "new Ivy", I really like that I went to Mac:
http://money.cnn.com/services/tickerheadlines/prn/200608140800PR_NEWS_USPR_____NYM116.htm.

Refugees
It’s funny that I feel more connected to Mac, because I probably have more good friends from UConn Law (remarkably, I have no law school friends left in CT). I keep on hearing about refugees from my law school leaving their cush law jobs for jobs like mine - in higher ed and business. What’s interesting is that the jobs they are leaving were the gold standard - what we dreamed for when we sat in the library, sizing up our competition for the few coveted positions, which guaranteed a privileged life. My boss at GW is one of us. Law school is so funny; it warrants a lot more space than this.

So I’m in this really strange place where I’m simultaneously feeling neglectful and unsustainably busy. And, reflective, but not communicative. I have Internet access at home now, so I plan to post more, shorter entries.

Life

I have made all sorts of cool connections here in D.C. I found a revolutionary posse of politically-minded people. Jen and I have been tearing up the streets of D.C., going to museums, checking out ethnic dining establishments, watched some Fringe Festival plays, and are just causing some general mayhem. We’ve done bluegrass amongst gentrified racists in VA, sang Rent at the top of our lungs in a car, seen a couple indy flicks (hated Skanner Darkly), perused the Portrait Gallery, dined on Malaysian. Lately, I have discovered some good ethnic cuisine (Delhi Dhaba in
Arlington rocked my socks), a nice farmers market in Dupont Circle, a great smoothie place. We’re going to check out the new, dodgy Bohemian hood — the "Atlas District" — and check out this new bar, the Palace of Wonders, where they have woman’s arm wrestling competitions every Tuesday night. My friend Danai’s play (In the Continuum) comes next month. I couldn’t be more excited.

At the same time, I am feeling neglectful. I miss my friends in SF, and SF. (I am excited about Labor Day back in my land!) I have all these friends here in D.C. who I expected to see all the time, but for one reason or another, have flaked on or not made plans with. And it’s not excusable.
Part of the flakiness was due to the fact that it was about a bajillion degrees outside and I was dying (99 the other night seemed bearable). Part of it is that I couldn’t drink every day any more. Part of it, is that life isn’t conducive to it.

Crazy world

I had a really thought provoking snippet of a conversation on Saturday, which motivated all of these random thoughts in my head. We were talking about how people in India and Albania don’t conceive of garbage in the same way we do. They build concrete walls around their homes, to preserve the yard in front and dispose of the garbage on the street. I also have a co-worker who loves killing animals. Loves it. And, I was also thinking about how the criminal justice system makes so little sense. Does the prospect of jailtime really deter anybody. Then, my mom told me about this crazy conversation she was having with my cousin’s husband who is a Fox-News obsessed Republican.  psycho. And, together, all these things makes me realize that there really is no order. And we make no sense. I’m feeling more existentialist. I wish I had Glide here. I may go to the Unitarian church down the street. Or meditate.

On Edge

I realized recently that people’s idiosyncracies bother me in this weird secondary fashion. Like I have a friend that taps his body incessantly - like a percussionist. Meanwhile, another friend of mine was talking on the phone in front of my other friends. I didn’t care for my sake. I am a voyeur; I like to overhear other people’s conversations. But it bothers me that he might be bothering other people. And that’s what bothers me.

Wimp

Let me preface this by saying D.C. is far more racist than other places I’ve live. I saw 2 swastikas in one day. I felt like a real wimp the other day. I went to this Indian restaurant and there was this 50-something couple sitting right next to us. The guy said right to his waiter’s face, "I love dopey looking Indians." His wife, laughing said, "don’t say that." The guy responds to the waiter, "you didn’t mind that, did you?" I should have said something. I can’t change the past.

Xhosa Couch

I just bought a couch, so I feel like I’m at home. I feel even better about the transaction because my delivery guy was a South African of Bantu descent. We exchanged words in Zulu/Xhosa and made a great connection. We’re going to check out Danai’s play together. I have a whole saga regarding customer service stuff, but writing about it at this point is only going to rile me up. So, all I have to say that if you like me and yourself, you won’t buy from overstock.com. OK I’ll say the story.
1) I ordered a couch on overstock
2) They couldn’t specify a time or day to ship it to me
3) They shipped it to my work
4) It arrived completely unassembled in 2 gargantuan boxes
5) I rented a pick-up truck and my co-worker Lars (Idaho) volunteered to help put it together
6) We opened the boxes and they were for 2 different models of couches
7) Overstock promised to pick up the mistakenly sent couch and send the correct one at a mutually agreeable time
Overstock did not live up to their promise and again sent out people at their convenience without a time frame
9) After a heated phone call, I finally gave up and rented another truck to send back both couches.
10) I found UPS on the street near my house after their failed attempt to pick up the box.
11) They said they only had one pick-up request
12) I sent both boxes.
13) A supervisor from overstock corporate called me to bitch me out, threatening me and telling me "You made a big mistake"
14) Another supervisor from overstock corporate called me on the other line 3 minutes later, and was very pleasant
15) Both supervisors told me they were higher ranking than the other
16) I hung up on the bitchy one. I still haven’t received a refund.
17) I passionately hate overstock.com

Metro

I like it when random people — and especially unlikely people — jump into a general conversation I’m having. It makes me feel community with the outside world, and interesting. It’s happened to me a lot as of late. I thought it was something specific to SF, but apparantly it happens here too!

Work

I really like my new job and co-workers. GW has a LOT of politics, but it’s a good place. My boss called me "a prince among men." I think that is my favorite compliment I have received. Ever.

So I went to NYC this weekend and I had such a blast. It’s less liberal, more commercial, way more racially integrated (and refreshingly so), smaller, and safer than I remembered. And, more poignantly, I felt so intangibly at home there. I think part of it is that my painfully tremendous craving for legit Indian has been satiated.

I left DC early, and took the Washington Deluxe bus, a $17.50 alternative to the Chinatown bus, that travels between NYC and DC.  The bus was grotesque, in terms of amenities and clientele; no aircon, and a melange of hideous people: hygeinically and/or ideologically . To my left, there was a woman sucking on lots of chicken wings, with a tremendous amount of phlegm, who ordered 2 orders of Nathans fries, doused in K, which she ate with one of those little annoying fry forks. To my right, another woman who was all up in my Kool Aid. She fell asleep and put her hand on my thigh. I finally had to pretend I had something I needed in my overhead bin to get her hand off of me. I wasn’t traumatized. Also, there was a snorer and someone with a flatulence problem. It was just bad news.

On the good ol’ Jersey Turnpike, we passed a tractor-trailer which was fully in flames (and surely the driver died) and some frat brother yelled out "sweet." How appropriate. Made me appreciate the people on my Israel trip. Is the world just getting worse?

On the trip, to escape the situation at hand, I finally read Coetze’s The Lives of Animals, c/o of Joshy Marcus, which I much enjoyed. Though it didn’t make me vegetarian.

When I arrived, Priscilla was the consummate hostess. She picked me up at the bus and took me to her lovely, edgy, little, apartment-behind-a-photo-studio. We ate late night Indian near her "Curry Hill" home. And we took a 50+-block whirlwind tour, with kombucha in hand, of the East Village (with its little japanese restaurants), Greenwich Village (where we watched incredible street performers surrounded by hoards of crunchy hippies and hipsters at 1 AM), Grammercy, Chelsea, Murray Hill, the Meat Packing District. It was amazing how things had further gentrified in my two year absence. One neighborhood flowed into the next with incredible energy and promise. By the end of it,  at 2 am, my feet were blistered and worn.

The next day I woke up, and Priscilla had left me a beautiful note with a Metro card, and I went out and explored the Union Square farmers market (nice, but no Ferry Plaza or Pike Place), and the Street Fair on Park Ave. I shopped until I dropped at Daffy’s and other places (and found so many cool stripey work shirts, I had to stop myself), and ate the BEST FRIKKIN PIZZA EVER. God, if they opened this place, San Francisco couldn’t take it. The sauce/cheese/crust made me believe in love.  It was what pizza is supposed to be.

Later on, I met up with Pizarro, formerly Wendell in the Village. I saw the place where I started hating ketchup — the Slaughtered Lamb. We went to NY’s Martuni’s counterpart, the Monster. The accompanist thought and I sang and got so much attention — people asked to take pictures with me! I felt so cool! I also ate a banana at the bar and they didn’t seem very happy. Afterwards, Pris and I ate yummilicious kathi rolls on Bleeker and MacDougal, and another slice of pizza, because one wasn’t enough.

We then went to Erica’s amazing rooftop party. The breeze, the food, the company (include Susan M from Law School) was all just perfect. I had such a nice time and everybody looked great.

The next day, we had brunch, shopped, I took home DELICIOUS pakistani food from this place Naimat Kada. NY’s Lahore. Delicious I tell you. YUM!

It was just a perfect weekend. I felt so revitalized and so at peace. Because I was so happy in SF, I had forgotten just how much I loved to NYC, until this trip. New York embodies such an interesting compilation of memories, from birth and childhood, to high school, to choir tour, to when Ruth and I went for Spring Break, to Law School. NY is ***almost*** like home to me. I plan to go 1 x a month. So, if you’re there and want to see me, let me know. NY is somewhere I should be planted at some time. Perhaps some time soon.

The bus back was way better. I ate the delicious Pakistani food at the rest stop; the best food that rest stop has ever seen. (I was too embarrassed to eat it on the bus, odor-wise, recollecting to the chicken wing sucker woman.) The aircon worked and a nice unobtrusive guy sat next to me (who I bumped into on-campus today) I read another book - Friendship: An Expose. Interesting stuff - mainly about this hyper reflective guy who feigns modesty. I feel like I might turn into him one day.

PS: Today in DC was so oppressively hot, I thought I was going to melt. It was like 100+ degrees.One day, it was drizzling and so humid that I could not tell the difference between my sweat and rain drops until I tasted them. Yucky.

No internet at home…yet. So, I’m going to keep this short and snappy and stream of consciousness.

Loving the new job. It’s great. My new work environment is just beautiful — apart from students. It’s in an old mansion and my new office is very masterpiece theatre; it has a big brass chandelier, and a fireplace. People light fragrant scented candles. All we need are scrolls and pens with feathers at the end to play the whole thing off. My co-workers are really community-oriented; we eat lunch together, visit each other all the time, and scheme — I love it. My Assistant Director is particularly wonderful. (Another Russian Jew - first all my friends were South Asians, and now the Russian Jews. Interesting trends.) I am particularly enjoying working for a school (GW) whose graduates are so proud to have attended here. I am excited to meet political figures like Wolf Blitzer, Cokie Roberts, Colin Powell, and Mark Warner. Also, I am enjoying paying taxes less and less. I’m almost taxophobic.

My apartment is great. It’s all furnished with beautiful furniture (sans a sofa; i just purchased one on overstock.com, http://www.overstock.com/?page=proframe&prod_id=1909949 and am excited about it). My bed is so comfortable I can barely wake up in the morning. And it’s in the most central location, walking distance to everything. 

I joined Netflix for the second time in my life thus far and am not using it again. I’ve been super busy. Eating too many salads and sandwiches, which is the fare here. After numerous attempts at suitable Indian, just found a Pakistani place, Mehran (which I was pointed to by a cabbie) nearby and really liked it. Other places I’ve enjoyed food-wise include: Amsterdam falafel, Coppi’s organic pizza, Gifford’s ice cream, and Lauriol Plaza (I recognize how cheesy it is and don’t care). Last week, I checked out Whole Foods and loved it. Bought canvas bags, and turkish figs, greek yogurt, cherries, cashew butter. Eating it all and loving it. Also, I’ve been taking my vitamins. I am missing my chiropractor - hard-core. But, my gym is awesome - and yoga starts very soon. Need to check out Eastern Market.

I’ve become a psycho about ironing. I never thought that would happen. I spend about 30 minutes a day ironing.

I bump into people pretty much every day; one day I bumped into 4 people in one day. I bumped into Anne Hardenbergh, Ereni Roez, Julia O’Donohue (who I also bumped into in South Beach), Mike Helfgott, the list continues… I feel like D.C. is one big college campus.

Visitor-wise - I saw a blast from the past, from Amherst, Karen Kohn (hadn’t seen her in 13 years), and Mary Brevdo and her brother Eugene, who is a great kid, came up. We saw Belle and Sebastian and I felt hella old. Tom and Merinda also passed through on their move to Seattle.

Socially, this is the land of the happy hour and the dinner party. I have no objection to this, except that I am probably drinking too much. Last night we went to a happy hour after work and I got dizzy after two citron martinis. Of note, the other day Kitty made me excellent, and I mean the best, turkey burgers ever. I am going to teach her how to make meatballs next week. Megan Newell and I attempted try #1 of butter chicken - we did it in two batches - the first ended up tasting like a West African stew; a good one. We did two key things wrong. So, I am going to re-attempt. I recognize this is a year’s long skill to develop.

I’m having a lot of fun. My expectations weren’t super duper high. And, it’s not San Francisco in a lot of ways. But, everyday is just dandy. I don’t really have a "group" out here, but I’ve been creating some ad hocs, and it’s going smoothly.  My busy-ness is the reason I am not taking advantage of Netflix (that and the absence of a couch). I have seen and would like to spend more time with so many people, including Mercer and Ellen. But, I guess we have all the time in the world. Made a really good new connection - with Erica Laudano’s buddy - Jennifer.

I found this incredible independent movie theater here (at 11th and E) - heaven (student discount rate is good). In addition to seeing and liking An Inconvenient Truth, Jennifer and I saw a really life-changing movie called Islam: What the West Should Know (Which only played for 3 days in Atlanta, Chicago, and DC, apparently has FBI agents in the audience, and elicited very strong reactions in audience members). It’s definitely propaganda, but very powerful conservative propaganda; a sober "primer" on the Nation of Islam.  The premise is basically that Islam is inherently violent, expansionist, deceptive, and fundamentalists are the only ones living a true Muslim existence. Some of the depictions were downright disturbing, like a machete-wielding crazy man who suggested that he planned to chop off every jew’s head that gets in his way. Scary as hell. This movie really challenged my PC-ness/relativism, in that their evidence corroborated with a lot of information I’ve heard before. I need to probe the facts a lot more before I develop a position, but I’ll admit that I am a confused cat right now. It was like Fox News, not on crack. The best counterexamples I have heard are the witch trials,  the crusades, slavery, and guantanamo bay.

The humidity is not as treacherous so far as people had suggested it would be; I am considering purchasing a bike; without hills it seems feasible. But, my assistant director had her’s stolen right after purchasing it. D.C. is a far more violent town than San Francisco. People don’t smile as much either. I have met many women with large gold earrings indicating their zodiac sign, which has allowed me to "break" certain people. I heard this really disturbing story about this 27 year old dude unloading his trunk in Georgetown last week. Tried to succomb to the assailants’ advances, and his throat was slashed. The assailants included a woman and a kid; they were found eating at Wendy’s right afterwards. Horrific.

Travels: I am headed to New York City this weekend (it’s been well over 2 years since I’ve been: 2/04) - to Erica Laudano’s rooftop birthday celebration and shop (DC shopping lacks), and eat Albanian pizza. Also, headed to Kentucky for Elizabeth Cooke’s wedding in August, and back to SF for JIll and Chris’s nuptuals in September. Not sure if I’m going to freak when I go back because I love it there so much. I think I’ll realize how happy I am here when I go back there. Funny how I think my reactions are separate from my logic.

Here are some details on my first week here.

First, props to Delia for hooking me up and decorating - she and Basil worked for countless hours setting up my new pad. Basil picked me up at the airport, and was just such a trouper. My apartment looks and feels gorgeous. I feel so at home in it.

So, I’m here. Somehow it feels like I’ve never left the East Coast. It’s not like I feel more comfortable here than in SF, but it feels very normal (much longer than a week) — much moreso than I anticipated. In my head, San Francisco is this distant dream fantasy world vacation place. It’s almost mythical, and certainly magical. Because my memory is so distorted, I don’t feel displaced (though population-wise the general dearth of East Asians and abundance of chain restaurants feels foreign).

When I first arrived, Priscilla was here (she was actually sleeping in my roommate’s bed, while he was here unexpectedly). Seeing her was amazing - it was like no time had passed, even though so many circumstances in our lives have changed. I am so happy she is just a hop, skip, and a jump away in NYC.

I spent the first few days with my new roommate, Ahmed, (the nicest guy ever - watch out Martino - Delia is in love with this one) who turns out to be Emily Stasko’s high school classmate. He is a wealth of knowledge about everything related to Iraq. He is so willing to talk about really important issues in a candid and respectful manner.

Then, I had a housewarming party (actually Meet the Parent, D.C. style) on Sunday for about 30 folks. The composition of the party was interesting because it was mostly girls. In my former lives, I had predominantly female friends. But, most recently this had changed markedly. This party was 80% women. It was very hot outside, but wonderful to reunite with some people who I haven’t seen in many moons. I got some really generous gifts, saw old photos of a former Andrew, and chatted with people of my yesteryears. The party was mid-day - totally relaxing - a bit more subdued than what I’m used to. That description pretty much sums up how I’m feeling. Not depressed, but just a bit slower; somewhat subdued. Vanessa noted that I serially repeated the preposition "in San Francisco" ad nauseum. I have been attempting to curb this.

I started my position on Monday along with another co-worker who just relocated from Las Vegas. (Funny coincidence is that I saw him give a presentation at a conference in San Francisco. The interesting thing about him is that he barely knows Washington, D.C. I gave him a walking tour of Dupont, Adams Morgan, U Street and Woodley Park yesterday, with the latter being his favorite. I felt sort of expert.)

We started with an HR orientation, where I realized how good GGU’s benefits were. I felt like I asked too many questions. I also realized that I displaced my Passport and Social Security Card for I-9 purposes (note: you can only get 10 Social Security cards in your lifetime - what happens after that???) After much stress, I realized that I wouldn’t be terminated without the relevant paperwork.

The work environment seems quite Utopian. My office is in an old mansion with lots of windows and free, unlimited green tea. My co-workers are extremely friendly (lunch together every day) and respectful. My Associate Director is a total sweetheart. Apparently there is political diversity in my office, and at our intro lunch, co-workers wanted to know my (and my new colleague’s) political leanings. [I am always shocked when people don't assume I am a Democrat.] The politics are slowly but surely seeping into my everyday conversations and I feel markedly more tolerant of conservative ideology than I used to, perhaps as a coping mechanism.

My job description is less labor intensive than I had expected, to the extent that I am no longer responsible for planning events or for marketing them — apparently there are event planners and marketing managers for that. I am really excited to build something from scratch. I was also shocked to learn that I don’t have to take my own trash. This is a great luxury. This week was one session of orientation for incoming GW students, and it was so well-organized and community-oriented that it completely foiled my experience at Golden Gate.

I have wavered a bunch already on the degree thing and I think I am going to take classes starting in the Spring, and I am just going to take things out of interest. I can say that I have been very impressed with the Media and Communications School, so I might do something journalism-oriented — just because it excites me (and the student composition is very International).

One major issue is that everybody eats way too much American food here, namely salads and sandwiches. (Today’s goat cheese and sundried tomato one was actually quite nice.) There’s only so much of this a man like me can take. I am sweating for Lahore. It’s actually killing me. Don’t get me wrong - the salads are good - but it’s just a little rote.

Later in the week, I got together with Sally and Bernie, Andrea’s parents, and my mentors. They are good people. They made me feel better in sharing their story about moving to Chicago; specifically how they were not keen on the move and they totally can’t consider leaving now, even though. And, although they have no reason or intention to leave, if they were to move anywhere, it would be to this region.

Today felt more homey. I did happy hour with Mercer at my new pad - we just picked up the pieces after a little hiatus. She’s adorable — someone I have tons of conversational chemistry with — we could jabber on for hours. Then, my roommate came to surprise me with great ethnic food. Tonight I had a notable free dinner with Yanna and Akeisha (and Akeisha’s boss, the owner of a large DC temping agency) at Jimmy K’s. Akeisha somehow had a big connection at this restaurant and we had everything all-expenses-paid. I ate salad, tuna tartare, wine, coffee, soda, spinach, filet mignon, lobster, creme brulee. My meal was worth in the range of $170. I spent $20 on tip. It seems they are trying to promote this high class restaurant and this is their way of doing it. I have no objections, save for the fact that my belly is significantly larger. I joined the GW gym to change that.

D.C. impressions so far:

Positives: The walk to work is beautiful and exciting (architecturally, landscape, etc.) - I pass by all sorts of interesting buildings, embassies, etc., co-workers and job are great, monuments at night are gorgeous, my neighborhood is walking distance to everything cool, cabs are plentiful and cheap (though I am taking them way too often), I get to reunite with old friends.

Negatives: People here don’t smile when they walk down the street, lots of talk about muggings, people talk too loudly on their cell phones to demonstrate their importance, dress as if there is a mandatory dress code, and the restaurants are way too expensive, too much emphasis on "dating" in the culture, lack of relationships between local business owners and customers.

Parking Lot:

Note #1: My cell phone is acting funky and I can’t receive text messages.

Note #2: The nearby gayborhood Safeway is called the "Soviet Safeway" and seems proportionately more gay than the one in the Castro.

Note #3: Not sure if I’ll become the District’s Kevin Bacon, but I have already started bumping into people everywhere. Yesterday I met a student who went to KO in Hartford and who knows a bunch of UConn law profs from my former life there. I also bumped into Bryony, my co-worker, my waitress from the other day at Old Glory (yay for Southern BBQ), among others.

Note #4: I always had a dream of showing my mother an image of a woman on a restaurant banner who looks just like her. Mission accomplished and everybody agreed, including a homeless guy who thought it was her, and mentioned this in lieu of asking for money.

Note #5: Last night there was a scary-as-hell lightning storm. The night before I had a terrible ketchup nightmare

Basically, so far, I totally see what everyone had said to me. D.C. is a great place to be young, and seems like it would be totally cool for 3 years. Who knows what the future holds? I hope California is in the cards. In the meantime, I am AOK.