Archive for April, 2007

Welcome to the District of Columbia

April 5, 2007 | Filed under: The District Of Columbia

“What is the city but the people?” ~William Shakespeare

Sometime yesterday afternoon I was sent a forward from the always useful and capable Metropolitan Police Department. They of infamous double parking and being generally unhelpful roughly 89.9% of the time. Except for those times when they choose to holler at me and/or stare and I choose to return their ‘niceness’ with my patented scowl/eyebrow raise combination and maybe the finger.

Yesterday’s email described attacks taking place in the Capitol Hill/Eastern Market areas, where a presumably homeless person in a red jacket has been going around stabbing people in the neck and back then running off. Before victims realize what has actually happened they experience a “burning sensation” in their back and then come to the astute realization that some psycho motherfucker has just stabbed them in the back. Which, you know…is almost as awesome as that time that we had snipers.

In the evening I decided to walk from where I was in south east to north east – across capitol hill – to a friend’s home. I had forgotten about crazy knife wielding man, though was thankful upon remembering that I was wearing my super cross country adidas and it’s easier to escape a knife than a rifle. But of course, every step I heard behind me on my mile long walk, gave me severe heart palpitations, but hopefully I’d be able to out run the motherfucker or have the where with all to step on the opposite side of the street upon seeing a red jacket clad man, dancing in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue and picking through the garbage. Just a thought.

Though it’s 7:30 PM, it’s still rather light outside. As I approach north east’s Stanton park, I’m still aware of my surroundings and see in the park a woman with a dog on the other side and a man on his bike then a black male standing in front of a bench. I look back towards the man at the bench and see an arching stream of water. But the arch…well it is controlled by the man standing at the bench. And well, there’s a homeless man peeing. In the middle of the park. In broad daylight. While some man pushes a stroller across Mass Ave.

The man finishes and sees me. Not that I’m still staring at him pissing in the park but because I start to walk a little faster as I can see him coming towards me out of my peripherals. And what does that motherfucker do? He starts yelling at me: “HEY HONEY! HEY GIRL! WHY YOU WALKING SO FAST?!? SHAKING THAT ASS!” For the record, I was sweaty and had shoved my fat ass into lycra.

At which point I died or at least contemplated moving to Ottawa. I mean, I’m sure in Ottawa, they don’t have snipers or knife wielding mental hospital escapees or homeless people pissing in the park exactly 3/10ths of a mile from their CAPITOL BUILDING.

Now tell me you don’t want to live here; with the brilliant hummer drivers, the Beltway, members of Congress and park pissers. Oh yes, and the Cherry Blossoms.

Crazy love

April 2, 2007 | Filed under: Bordeaux, The object of my obsession, Whoopdie Doo

“Computers must be male. As soon as you commit to one you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have obtained a better model. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on. Big power surges knock them out for the rest of the day.” ~Author Unknown

I never thought I’d be this person. A person who loves unconditionally, even though there might be some flaws, I see past them to see the overall beauty of Bordeaux. I thought Mac people were silly, creative, hipster types who sipped lattes in trendy coffee shops while hunched over their computers writing about Nietzsche. Those ‘right-brain’, smart types with the ability to be expressive and visionary while using big words in complete sentences. A group of people that I have no business cavorting with.

And then one day it was as if I made this rather big decision to see what all the hype was all about. Mahill kept professing his love for Steve Jobs and that whole ‘you can just plug it in and it works’ nonsense. I called bullshit though and needed to look and test drive and lightly touch the perfectly pristine cover. I saved my pennies and brought home Bordeaux and ever since then I have been in deep love.

Oh you all do not even know of the things that can be done with this machine. The comic strips and the easy start up and the way that iphoto proves to be more interesting to an 18 month old than Blue’s Clues. Behold, a miracle.

It has made coming home to sit down and write less of a seizure inducing ‘I’m going to go stick my head in this oven’ activity. And more of a pleasure…more like an ‘I’m going to sit here and drink some Malbec while fondly thinking of a million other ways to pepper my writing with the f-word’ activity. When Stacy brought Pax home and spoke of her discovery and the way it truly can change one’s life and way of thinking, I wanted to hug her from 3,000 miles away and exclaim YES! For it is amazing.

The drawback would be the daytime. Those eight hours a day in which I’m forced to be at the beckon call of Michael Dell’s ass box. The way I slam on the keyboard and move the mouse around frantically as it eats away at precious time I could be using for copying and watching baseball, because it continuously freezes. And when it doesn’t freeze, it just shuts itself down and restarts all by itself. Which might prove just how far technology has advanced and maybe there’ll be flying cars tomorrow, but for now it’s a fucking pain in the ass nuisance. Every morning I die a little inside knowing that I have to ctrl+alt+del my way through the following eight hours. It’s a sad, sad existence.

True Story: This weekend, I was running late and had Bordeaux in the back seat. I made a sharp turn off of the Beltway and he fell. I picked him up as soon as I noticed what had happened and hugged him to my chest and hoped – nay, prayed – that he would be OK* and fully functional when I went to watch Best in Show for the 45th time. Of course, he was. But I fear that day, many years from now, when I learn the hard way that Steve Jobs might not be the genius that I had originally thought, but we do not speak of that. For now I feel like this might be how parenting goes for me. Name the kid some shitty name like Cabernet, drop it, kiss it’s boo boo, then fall asleep on top of it after using it to watch Borat naked wrestle a fat man. I am poised to be quite awesome at that whole parenting thing.

*Believe it or not, the same thing once happened with a six pack of Pilsner Urquell. I stopped short and hit someone’s bumper. The first thing I did was turn around to MAKE SURE THE BEER WAS OK and then I checked my car. For I have my priorities straight.