Odds and Ends

Well, I finally moved and boy was it fantastic (extreme sarcasm). In my last post, I noted how awkward the process of finding a place was but now that I’ve found one and moved in, it’s still awkward. Last week, my landlord gave me an email address of one of the three people currently living in the house so I sent an introductory email basically saying that I looked forward to meeting them, etc. No response. None. Then when I moved in yesterday, nobody was in the house. The only living creature around was somebody’s cat that is absolutely mortified of me and acts as if I had committed prior violent acts upon it. Getting that little bastard out from under my bed took 45 minutes. Someday I hope to meet its owner, perhaps find out if it has a name and maybe find a way to resolve our differences.

After I put my room together, I went out to buy some groceries. On my way home, as I walked up the sidewalk to my new place, a young neighborhood kid approached me and asked, politely, if I had a dollar. I politely said that I didn’t and walked up to my front door. Just as I was opening the gate on the door, a large piece of asphalt exploded on bars of the gate, a couple of feet from my head. I turned around to see about six or seven middle school aged hoodlums silently staring at me. Not knowing what exactly to do, I turned to quickly open the door and get into the house. Because my keys are new, I was struggling to find the right key for each lock. Again, a large piece of road hit the house and again I turned around to see several kids, completely silent--not asking for money, not calling me names, not slapping high fives to eachother, nothing. At this point I began to wonder if I was about to endure history’s most awkward stoning. Fortunately, they didn’t throw any more projectiles at me and I safely got into my house. Not exactly a warm welcome. The weird thing is that they are most likely my neighbors and I'm probably going to see them like three times a week.

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So it’s officially spring here. While people in most “normal” American cities rely on calendar dates, melting snow, and more sunshine to signify that it’s spring, we here in this anonymous capital city rely on other indicators. Most of them have to do with the massive annual flood of tourists.

Metro hell. Clogged escalators, confused masses, and irritated locals add at least 15 minutes to your commute. Waiting on an escalator with your head 2 inches from someone's fanny pack as the last train for twenty minutes rolls by is like some form of weird torture.

Cherry blossoms. In theory, the week of the cherry blossom bloom is great. Even a hardened cynic like me can appreciate how fantastic they make the tidal basin look even if it is for such a short period of time. I even make an effort to take a few photos, which will be forthcoming. Unfortunately, I have to make that time around 7 o’clock in the morning because that’s really the only time of day that there aren’t thousands of people clogging the walking paths and ripping off branches as souvenirs, a practice which I just don’t understand. Of course, I don’t understand why anyone would buy one of those, “You don’t know me. I’m in the witness protection program” T-shirts so maybe I’m missing some key information here.

Baseball’s opening day. And I have to work. If I see another douchebag in a Nationals jersey drinking margaritas in the sunshine today, I think I am going to freak out. FREAK OUT! The only redeeming factor here is that Johan is pitching tonight on ESPN2 and I won’t have to watch the online game cast.