Anti-Tsunami

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.

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 6th, 2006 at 6:28 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.