Foggy Bottom Farmers Market

Last Wednesday was the first Foggy Bottom Farmers Market* since uh...December.

Praise be to God for sunflower and flax seed bread and spinach. And none of that baby spinach shit, I'm talking about hearty and toothsome spinach with flavor that doesn't wilt.
And huzzah for eggs with orange yolks that don't break, because Lord knows I be liking my eggs these days.
Amen I say, amen to parsnips and turnips and spicy bison beef jerky sold to me by a man with a goatee.

Wednesdays just got real good. Now I have just enough time to hit the farmers market and eat a quick dinner to the first 25 minutes of Gilmore Girls before class. Yeah, I like Wednesdays.

*For many months I was not sure if it was Farmers Market or Farmer's Market (note the apostrophe). Is it a gathering of multiple farmers or a market put on by farmers thus making it theirs? Well, it's both, so I took the matter to Google. While it corrected me when I typed in Farmer's Market and not Farmers Market, I was still skeptical. After more Googling, I read the first Farmers Market was intended to sell produce to non-farming folk (and was established in LA). So there you have it, Farmers Market. If you were already aware of this fact, then let this story be an example of the wonders of Google.  Once upon a time I wanted to live in a time without Google, then I stopped reading so much and found gchat. Hallelujah!

Like up on the Roof, Roof

(Tell your boyfriend not to be mad at me)

I guess everyone has a roof (sorry to marginalize all the hobos reading this). Here at The Colonial, we have something between an accessible and inaccessible rooftop, and by that I mean we gots a fire escape and a semi-flat, semi-slanted roof.  From this roof, however, one can see all of Foggy Bottom, some of Georgetown and the Washington Monument.

The climb up is a tad precarious but absolutely worth it. Mom and Dad, please stop reading here.
We've tried to instate a no-drinking-on-da-roof rule, but denying yourself a warm night/beer/roof combo is senseless, senseless I say!

Unseasonably warm weather has allowed me a few roof sessions, one spent eyeballing the Super Moon and the other spent reading/napping with Garden Salsa SunChips and trying to will the sun to freckle my nose.

If you haven't already noticed, clicking on my photos will take you to my flickr where you can sometimes find other goodies, like blurry Drew cupping the moon.

My Boots

Georgetown snow in the early morning

Finally, a little bit of snow. It makes the buttons and zippers and gloves and breathing deeply into your hands worth it. I welcomed the blisters from my boots and tried to ignore the salted streets because honestly, would a snow day have been so terrible?

I would have stayed home in my union suit, reading for book club and questioning how many hot chocolates in one day is too many (more than two, I'm afraid-but ghetto mochas don't count!)

I love the slowness of snow days as if the stillness of the air affects time. Somehow I always fit in hours of sledding plus thawing time plus endless pots of hot chocolate that my Mom always seemed to have ready right when we got home from the sledding hill PLUS a viewing of Snow Day, always. But I'll save that for a real snow storm.

Thanksgivings One and Two in Portrait

The First Thanksgiving
The only photo that really came out, unfortunately.
Somehow nine people and one seven-foot German fit around a small table. Because everyone's food was so delicious, I let them go see Harry Potter without me afterward. I didn't even ruin it or complain that I couldn't go because I was too tired.
I think this is growing up?


The Second Thanksgiving
I carried a 21 pound turkey slung over my back and spent the rest of the day basting until she turned golden.
It's honestly amazing how many people can fit into one tiny room and how a lot of good food and wine and music can turn a word like cramped into something more like cozy.



One day Victoria is going to make her fortune in mini pies.
No, seriously.


The father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
And the Turkey.

After looking through all my photos from both nights (a total of 9-sorry, i'm awful at taking pictures without a lot of light and after I've had more than one glass of wine. But the people there were looking sharp and if I had taken more pictures of them, they would have at least looked like they were having fun) I noticed all were taken in portrait. This really bothered me because I definitely prefer looking at photos in landscape.

And a quick word to all those already celebrating Christmas.
Just stop, please. It's not that I don't love Christmas, but you're despecialing it. And well, I think Thanksgiving is pretty great.
I'm looking at you Georgetown.

Testing.

m street northwest to m street southeast.

the navy yard and capitol hill

georgetown after the metro

20 minutes by metro. 50 if you include walking to the metro stations.
point a to point b and back again, these two neighborhoods are the alpha and omega of my day.

on 8th street in capitol hill you will find poverty-stricken people begging for change. you will find young people in black framed glasses walking to their renovated row houses. you will find marines sweeping the streets of fallen leaves with assault rifles strapped to their backs.
how funny to be in georgetown 20 minutes later.

these united states.

should be celebrated

with mini grills and a bucket full of beer in parking lots.

with flea market beer pong tables and mash-ups on the ipod.

with nathan's hot dogs, hamburgers, potato rolls, a small keg of raspberry beer, mint-watermelon salad, pasta salad, potato salad, guacamole, pineapple salsa, vegetable skewers and grilled fruit in solo cups.

with fireworks at the waterfront and hiccups and dancing at garretts.

i'm pretty sure i didn't even take half of these photos, the last few can almost certainly be credited to the classy young man in the cut-off USA tee.

fact: when i was 13 i ate 11 hot dogs in under 30 minutes at the summer pool party and then went swimming.

master chef and dancer

good lord.

the last few photos of this night on my camera were completely black. when i lightened them up each one was a surprise, almost like shaking a polaroid 2 days later.

one day

i want to live here. i want a dog named carrot (or fang). i'll ride my vespa to the dupont farmer's market every sunday and i'll decorate my house on halloween so all the kids are frightened.

i know there's a fireplace and a good staircase in there, and the tree will grow big and i'll never cut it down.

i hope the people in there don't mind me stopping and staring every time i pass by, but they should know that this place might be mine one day.

georgetown

georgetown is more of a neighborhood than i ever expected it to be.

i know having the opportunity to live in georgetown is a dream and that i will probably not be able to live in an area this posh until, well, ever, but part of me was afraid it would be filled with snobby people and the lifeless expensive places that cater to them.

it turns out that the uneven brick sidewalks that slant down to the waterfront have really charmed me. i've found good places that make me feel like i'm making georgetown home. quiet places, places where dogs hang out, places for groceries (trader joe's!) and places for a drink and trivia (and the ocassional dance party). i've seen people that frequent these places, and that make it feel that i live in a neighborhood. people like the homeless man that can quote Julius Ceasar and is afraid of storms and the man that walks his well-behaved chocolate lab leashless at all hours of the night and day.

this place, uptown valet, i just found last week when i finally decided i couldn't get through the spring if i didn't take my work skirts to the dry cleaners.

while i was in there waiting to pick up my clothes (i lost my damn ticket and they had to search for the bunch with a yellow sweater), everyone seemed to know eachother. above is a picture of the matchmaking wall. they take polaroids of the willing and single customers and will set them up. isn't that cute?

hey alli, need anything drycleaned?

What the Hell is That?

Seriously, what is that? It's red and brown and squarish. Oh could that be the goddamn ground?

Good News, i can walk again. Apparently Georgetown needed one good weekend of sunlight to make the sidewalks appear for the first time since i've moved here.

Me: This calls for a celebration

Me: What kind of celebration?

Me: A run!

Me: That's not a celebration

Running in the rain is really fantastic, it feels great. How do I know this? Well, 1. because i do and 2. a Georgetown student said so as i was running on the campus and dey smart.

Something not so fantastic is when scary people sit in their cars and say things to you as you go by.

"Yeaaaah you got that longevity girl."

Uhhh thanks? Wait:

Longevity

Noun. [lon-jev-i-tee]: 1. a long individual life; great duration of individual life.

No yeah, I was right before. Thanks.

DC Winters, enough already.

After being snowmageddoned in this weekend, i've learned a few things:

1. i love all things Trader Joe's.*

2. i could star in a Campbell's Soup commercial.

3. sledding has lost zero of its charm.

*when shopping at Trader Joe's, always check to make sure your corn dogs aren't meatless.

I Let My Arms Swing

iphoto

Last week was truly awful. It was 5 days of self-pity and watching Twilight so i could fall asleep. This considered, no one is more surprised than me how my outlook has turned around.


Today is good, really good. I think i had to have everything happen last week to make today seem so great. Was it worth it? Hell no, but guess what. I'm moving into an apartment in Georgetown, i no longer have a 3 hour commute AND it's 65 degrees and sunny outside right now. This calls for some exclamation points !!!!!

After utilizing my Monday morning by making ONE calendar update, i said Kerry, you need a break. Today would be a good day to try out that Anacostia River Walk. As i was walking i took my hands out of my pockets. I swung those things we call arms and took a stroll to the river. Whilst strolling, i forced a line of Marines carrying rifles onto the other side of the sidewalk and even after that, they called me M'am (i'd like to be m'ammed more often). Rather than alarming me, this made me feel safe because maybe i took a wrong left turn, if you know what i mean, and maybe i saw a man chugging his 24 Loco at 1:30 in the afternoon so he could get on the bus. If you don't know what i mean by a wrong left turn, please refer to my River Walk/abandoned building picture at the top of this post.

The Anacostia River folks, it aint pretty, it's dirty. Luckily the Marine Corps Barracks was blasting marching band music from their speakers, so i sat down in the sun on the sidewalk, took off my jacket and listened for a while before making the dreaded walk back to my cube.

But i won't stay here past 4 and you can't make me!