Summer Sunday

I used to dread Sundays. I'd snicker at references to it as the "day of rest" throughout my epic Catholic education (15 years = a whole lot of snickering). For me, Sunday meant strategically timed showers and meals in order to waste as little time as possible. It meant regretting starting Saturday night at 6 o'clock, because I didn't get enough reading done.

During the worst of Sundays, I'd put on a little soundtrack to bask in my Sunday angst. The Pretenders' cover of Morrissey's "Everyday is Like Sunday" was a particular favorite. To fully comprehend the angst, here's the first verse and chorus:

V1: Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come Armageddon!
Come, Armageddon! come!

C: Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Before you judge, listen to the song. It's damn good and perfectly captured my sentiments about Sunday. While I'm still a fan of of the song and other Sunday songs, including "Sunday Morning" by The Velvet Underground, I am no longer a hater of Sunday.

Sunday is my savior! It's a day off in a 6-day week when nine hours of sleep feels like fifteen; when I drink coffee just for the taste; when folding laundry is relaxing. Even the half-mile trek to the grocery store is satisfying. Today I splurged on some Norwegian cheese, Snøfrisk, and bought some locally grown blueberries. These little treats seem like child's play after seeing the delicacies (and obscene prices) at the Dupont Circle Farmer's Market, but they're the little joys that make Sunday special.

The day is almost gone now, but it was a good one. When I can wait contentedly at the bus stop for over an hour and make friends with a Cuban named Omar, it's been a decent day.

Give Lady Gaga a Break

Because I promised a post, I will briefly discuss the best thing about commuting to work.

It's the podcasts. At all other times of the year, podcasts pile up in my Itunes library. That pesky exclamation mark appears next to each and every subscription reminding me that I'm masquerading as a pseudo-intellectual. I could never just sit in my room for an hour and listen to a radio program.

Times have changed, my friends. I've cried on the GUTS bus listening to Dan Savage recount his mother's battle with cancer on This American Life. I've fallen in love with The Low Anthem's "Charlie Darwin" on All Songs Considered. I've rolled my eyes about Obama's controversial "conscience clause" on Slate's DoubleX Gabfest.

Perhaps things have gotten a little out of hand. I now subscribe to ten podcasts, some of which take a few weeks to get around to listening. But if you have an Ipod and you commute, I highly recommend you give Lady Gaga a break and listen to some storytelling. Or news. Or comedy. Anything! Spice up your life with a podcast. When the day's done and you're looking forward to going to sleep as soon as you can scarf down your pasta dinner, it's something to look forward to.

Work Hard, Play Hard?

I learned last week that I cannot work hard, play hard. I can work hard, rest for a night, do some laundry, and then can play relatively hard.

I'm getting into the groove of working three jobs, but sadly my blogging has suffered. Big things are in store for the blog though, including a move to WordPress and a new domain! Get ready.

In the meantime, look for a Friday night blog entry.

End of Summer

via Darkman's world Flickr

Summer has come to a close and on this occasion, I offer a Best/Worst summary.

Best
1. Visiting the Cape
2. Seeing movies (The Dark Knight, Pineapple Express, Tropic Thunder)
3. Sports (vball, tennis, climbing)
4. Cooking
5. 4th of July
6. 21st Birthday
7. Concerts (Aimee Mann, Fleet Foxes, Tilly & the Wall)
8. Work

Worst
1. Mosquito bites
2. Work

Ay, ay, ay. It was my last summer between school years where I could have hypothetically done nothing at all! It was a good one, but I'm happy the school year is starting. More updates and less lists in the near future. Slowly but surely, I'll be blogging more consistently... and on more interesting topics. Until then, happy hump day.

Summer Charm

Photo courtesy of Picture Perfect
Watching Clueless on a Friday night is my idea of fun. In fact, it's a luxury since returning from television-less Londontown. But even though I'm having fun, I didn't necessarily choose my fate of apparent loserdom. Yesterday while playing tennis, in a heroic sprint to answer my cell phone, I ran full speed into the handle of the net crank. A few tears, a Sweet Green sweet flow, and one burrito later, I was happily limping home.

I continue living a charmed life in DC working MWF's and sleeping in on days off. Climbing and the journey to the climbing gym are meditative experiences, solo and wonderful. I listen to my Pimsleur Basic Norwegian audio lessons on the way and mutter phrases to myself on the Metro. And yes, I am learning Norwegian for no reason at all other than I feel like it (and the cds at Barnes & Noble were cheap). Perhaps German is next? Who knows. For some reason, practical languages like Spanish are so discouraging because being conversational seems significantly less attainable than for a seemingly useless language like Norwegian.

Next Friday I head up to the Cape for a long overdue reunion with my sister. I say "the Cape" like I know what I'm talking about, but really, I'm confused and hope it's not over-populated with Vineyard Vines-toting, critter pants-wearing, collar-popping socialites. Is there a hippie/hobo part of the Cape? I'm excited to ride bikes, fly kites, swim, and frolic in the ocean. The ocean! I realized while abroad that it's incorrect to refer to any sea/ocean as the ocean. Before I thought that "sea" and "ocean" were synonyms when in fact, Europeans refer only to the Atlantic, Pacific, and Antarctic Oceans as "oceans" and only to seas, like the Mediterranean, as "seas." Maybe everyone knew this already, but I was enlightened.

I'm all blogged out so for the curious, here are some pictures of my humble abode. No huge plans for this weekend except probably a Nats game tomorrow and my first pseudo-day at Patagonia on Sunday. My foray into outdoor retail continues... happy weekend!

The Lowdown Pt 2 and a Tangent

After realizing that the piece of paper I mailed to LSE was some kind of unnecessary formalized process for making you think that they're involved with the class selection process, I chose new classes online. Now I'm signed up for:

1. Development Economics
2. Political Economy (where I actually get to learn what my Georgetown major means...)
3. Intro to Econometrics
4. Latin America and the International Economy

Choosing classes for geeky people like myself is one of the most exciting parts of going to school, so forgive me for repeated postings on the subject. A Georgetown friend of mine is in all of these, so I'll have some comfort that I won't be suffering alone (solidarity, woot). I'm a little bit scared of Intro to Econometrics, although I can be thankful that I don't have to take it with the infamous Westbrook at Georgetown. Political Economy looks... interdisciplinary? I'm hoping for less theory and more application, please God. Development Econ looks like it might be the biggest challenge. And finally, Latin America and the International Economy looks like a breath of fresh air.

I'm reading this book called Imagined London: A Tour of the World's Greatest Fictional City by Anna Quindlen and it's giving me a little flavor of my future home. Admittedly, some of the literary references are flying right over my head, but I like it anyway. I wouldn't call it the best book to introduce me to London, but bookstore travel sections are full of crap. I don't want to know what walks to take in London or a travel guide. I want to know about it, it's history and its anecdotes, with a hint of suggestion for places to visit. That proved to be a tall order, so I settled with this book.

What has this summer done to me? Reading a book about London? That's not really me. I read books for school and occasionally picked up a leisure book during summer, but I was put to shame by my housemates. The four girls of my house (sorry, not the boys) read books with an appetite that I've never really seen before. Ayn Rand? Sure... just for fun. So I, in order to preserve my faux-intellectual ego, read with them. Granted, not Ayn Rand, but read nevertheless. So here I am continuing my "habit." Any London-ish suggestions? Please. Not Londonistan.

In Limbo

I'm back from San Diego and four days away from my pre-London east coast tour. It freaks me out a little bit to be back home, because the end of the San Diego trip means one less event to buffer my departure to London.

On the bright side, I'll have a chance to see family and friends in a last goodbye. "Last goodbye" is a bit of hyperbole, since I'll go the same length of time without seeing my parents as if I were in DC. The dread of finally going to London is just the usual dread I feel about starting anything new, and it's extra exaggerated since I'm waiting in limbo while everyone else has already begun their school year adventures. Let the packing begin and let function win over sentimentality, at least in this case.

Here are some San Diego pictures.

Home Life Frustrations

Home life is in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of working eighteen-day stretches at Helly Hansen without a day off. It's hard to stay busy when there is seemingly nothing to do but this has been my general schedule. I wake up around 9 or 10AM (impressive for me), eat, watch tv, go to some doctor appointment, watch more tv, annoy my dog for some attention, possibly go on a short excursion, and wait for my mom to get home from work. After dinner in the gloomy nighttime hours when I might normally be socializing, I force myself to jump on this thing.

Yes. Say what you will, but the 20-30 minutes I spend on it eases my growing insanity. It's only a short stretch I have to endure at home and it's not all bad; I enjoy having a stocked fridge, free food, zero time constraints. The hardest thing for me is recovering from the best summer I've ever had, constantly surrounded by 6 of my favorite people at Georgetown.


Some of you probably think I should be proactive about this whole boredom thing and I agree. Yes, be proactive. Following my 5-month stint posing as an outdoorsy girl at Helly Hansen, I decided to rough it a little bit. I discovered that Henry W. Coe State Park, only a short drive from my house, is the largest state park in Northen California. I picked out a hike to do with a friend and got psyched. Then I heard sirens one day and saw billowing smoke clouds, signs of the 18,000-acre fire that's expected to burn at least 30,000 acres before it's contained.

Despite the fire and lack of plans, the downtime of home has caused to me to finally get excited about London. Was I excited before? Barely. Did I once tell you that I was? Probably. I lied. I can't wait to step outside my building and see city streets ripe for exploration. I can't wait to be able to walk somewhere. I can't wait until I'm not constantly available. There are still 23 days until my departure from the U.S. Sigh. Until then, I hope that I can come to terms with the fact that my friends' lives are up and running like mine would have been if I was at Georgetown. In the meantime, find me in the garage on the bike... sweating out the frustration.

Also, skype skype skype. I skyped for the first time with my high school friend who is studying in Australia and the video and sound quality are top notch (fo' frizzle!). Download skype or prepare to sacrifice our friendship/family relation for a year. I'm kidding... kind of.

Missing DC

I'm back home for the first time in over 7 months and I'm a little unsure of what to make of it. My dog remembers me and my dad does too. My room is pretty much how I left it. The Target is now a Super Target across the street from its original location. I didn't notice any other significant changes on the drive back from the airport.

I wish there was somewhere I could walk right now. I am starting to fear that I'll resort to becoming one of those people that goes to Starbucks to read or write. Normally, that's fine... you walked to M Street; it took work to get there. But to drive to Starbucks and sit down for a few hours? That seems different. Repulsively different. It feels good to be back home mostly because I can be coddled by my parents and leave my stuff somewhere knowing that it won't be displaced by the rightful owners of the space. But I actually already resent the doctor appointments that are stacking up and disrupting my plans to see the people I want to see when I'm home.

This summer definitely cemented DC's place as my home. I had the privilege of living in gloriously decrepit Darnall, in the even more run-down S Street house, and in the fresh but prison-like New South. California is good, but I miss everyone already. Talk to you soon.

Bummin'

Here's a little life update for any family members that are wondering my whereabouts. I just finished moving out of and cleaning the house I lived in for the summer. It was a bittersweet goodbye to the house that mysteriously slanted to the left, that lacked central air, that fostered hours of Guitar Hero 2, but I'm glad to be out. My current belongings consist of a duffel, two backpacks, and a rolly suitcase. It feels a little unnerving to be reduced to so little, but it's good to be sticking around on campus while the rest of my friends trickle back.

Until I return to California (for the first time in over 7 months!) on Monday, I'm staying at a friend's in a freshman dorm on campus. It makes a good temporary home: the mattress that we stole from a freshman room is fully outfitted with my mattress pad, sheets, comforter, and pillow. The downside of this arrangement is that I have been stripped of the freedom to come and go as I please. So... right now, I'm bumming at the Gtown radio station with miscellaneous belongings and ceramic plates wondering where I should go next. I feel a little out of place moving out while thousands are moving in... like a fish against the current but so be it. I haven't been doing anything LSE-related and am anxiously awaiting to get my LSE email account, so pathetically, I can join the LSE facebook network. For people over age 25 who don't know what facebook is, here's a link to explain what it is. Alright. Alright. Let the bumming continue.