Reflections

The title of this blog is once again no longer fitting, as I am currently at home and not in DC. I am thrilled to be home and once again be reminded of how much I love this town, but sad to be done with such an amazing summer. I learned a great deal at work - mostly how to write more elegant Stata code and what the hell propensity score matching is, but lots of other things too that might be boring to read about. The summer was also a chance to learn life lessons - how to dress for work, pick a place to live in a city (HAS TO BE NEAR A METRO STOP), be more socially forward (though I'm still working on that one), buy and cook my own food (I'm never going to eat as much as I think I will). All in all, a great trial run in pretending to be a grown-up. 

Look what I made

This evening, despite the fact that it was really hot outside, since my housemate isn't here to be upset over the amount of heat generated by the oven permeating throughout his un-air-conditioned house. Cookies with semisweet and white chocolate chips and pecans. Yum.

In case you need a close-up (really, I just want to brag)

That is all.

Extreme day

Today, I went hiking in the Great Falls - a park that flanks the Potomac on both sides and provides many opportunities for outdoorsy fun that is either too extreme for me or almost so. Against my protests, we took the trail rated "strenuous" by the National Park Service, due to the amount of scrambling it requires. However, there was pretty much no elevation change, so it really wasn't very strenuous at all, I just had to use my hands to balance and slide down rocks on my behind when I was too afraid to jump down. I made a fuss before going on the most extreme part of the trail, but with the rough texture of the rocks providing lots of footholds, it was actually easier than it looks.

Mid-hike, we stopped in a beachy area and my companions disregarded the signs that cautioned against swimming while I waded near the shore.

In the evening, I helped make and eat a yummy dinner at my coworker's new apartment, which wasn't very extreme, but fun nonetheless. 

This past week

I went out after work twice, including last night, which is pretty much a requirement, even with my hermit-like habits, so it doesn't exactly count. The other three days, I spent at home making chilling and making delicious food (potatoes, kale and chickpeas with cumin and garlic) and baking (cinammon-spiced dinner rolls). The latter were actually kind of a bust because I didn't add enough sugar, but I've been eating them with sugary yogurt, which makes the experience much better. I haven't been diligently taking photos of my culinary accomplishments partly because the energy associated with the walk upstairs to grab my camera seems too great, but mostly because by the time my dinner is finished, I just want to EAT.

My project at work seems like it's never going to end because inconsistencies in the data coding keep hurling discontinuities onto my otherwise beautiful graph. 

Last night, after a nearly month-long hiatus, I attended Jazz in the Sculpture Garden with a couple of my coworkers. Afterwards, we went to Adams Morgan where we tried to go to the wildest club but then settled on a less intense one. A friend who lives in the city let me stay over so I wouldn't have to trek back to Alexandria at night. I did trek to Alexandria and then back to the city to get to Union Station to visit my brother. It was a morning full of struggles, which isn't surprising considering that last night was the night I learned to add "splash" at the end of my order for my preferred concentration of mixed drinks. 

I had a lovely afternoon in Baltimore. We had lunch at an Italian deli, took a detour to my brother's house at my request to watch the Food Network and play with the cat, then went to a museum. The art was a bit too much for even my taste, but the exhibit was about laughter, so there were comics and a bench covered in whoppee cushions stationed in the "Toot room" which appeased my inner five-year-old. 

I have the house

All to myself because my two housemates are currently out of the country. The absence of the male housemate is something I've been looking forward to for a little while, excited by the idea of not having to chat with him or endure his bragging and aggressively conservative political viewpoints.

I was so thrilled by the prospect of having almost 2 weeks alone that I even took the plunge of buying yeast so that I can make bread unencumbered by my housemate's request that I only bake early in the morning to avoid heating the house that he doesn't want to cool with the AC.

So far, however, my solitude hasn't been as enjoyable as I had anticipated. Today's rainy weather has resulted in a series of splashes on the windowsills long after the rain had stopped, the noise from which was just ambiguous enough to make me unsure and worried about their source. The bathroom has been inhabited by a giant moth, which is actually not really something to complain about since I'd rather have a giant moth hanging around than a giant cockroach. I was going to catch the moth with my yogurt container, but it went to sit in the light fixture, which I think is an acceptable place for a moth to be. 

New York, re-visited

I actually had two NYC trips planned this summer, mostly because of my sheer love of the city, partly because I wanted to spend sufficient amounts of time with various friends.

This time around, I spent most of my time in Brooklyn. We started the day by getting our hipster on at the Smorgasburg, an outdoor food market in Williamsburg. I had delicious Vietnamese noodles, the same kind that later caused me great mental turmoil and anxiety after my friend, who is extremely allergic to peanuts, ordered and had some.

Said friend is ok, in case you are wondering.

I also had one of those trendy gourmet popsicles, the recipes of which have been flying around the food blogosphere all summer long. Mine was raspberry basil.

After lunch, we went to Coney Island, which was a rather high-thrill place to be. I got my adrenaline rushing at the combination roller coaster water splash ride, the highest elevation of which was probably 10-15 feet. As if that wasn't enough, we proceeded onto a wooden roller coaster, where I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched the handlebar while everyone else smiled and put up their hands for the photos.

At my request, on the way back, we made a detour to my motherland, otherwise known as Brighton Beach. I listened to spoken Russian and other Eastern European languages to my heart's delight, purchased some fresh sour cherries, walked barefoot in the sand, and dipped my feet into the water.

The second day in the city was uneventful, aside from the delicious brunch I had with my host at a tiny restaurant with a rather intimidating host/server.

I left my phone at home yesterday

Which was entirely uncharacteristic of me, since I live by and always preach the refrain "keys, phone, id" to my roommate at school, encouraging her to check for all three before leaving to make her life easier and avoid having to rely on my forgetful self to open the side door of the entryway. But I had a very good reason for it.

The day before yesterday, I was sitting on the chair in my room, right next to my bed, with my laptop in my lap, probably creeping around facebook or something similar, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. (Grossness alert - skip ahead to next paragraph if you are grossed out easily) I turned and saw - on the corner of my beautiful lavender fitted sheet, less than a foot away from me - a GIANT cockroach. After leaping across the room in a very prompt and athletic fashion to secure my laptop (and get away), I tried to deal with the situation using my designated bug catcher - an quart-sized empty yogurt container. After an extended struggle, the cockroach eluded me, so I cleared away my belongings and slept downstairs. 

Then, my morning routine got messed up, I took too long to get ready and had to run out to catch the 8:10 bus (avid readers of this blog may know that the 8:20 is a whole different story). 

Work is going well. I've started asking my co-intern about Stata and Excel commands, which has been working out very well. Just today, I learned to "concatenate," or combine strings of characters in different Excel cells and put them into one cell and made 350 lines of repetitive labeling code in approximately 5 minutes. It was awesome. That was a very nerdy thing to write, but it was such a highlight of my day, I had to share. In other news, I've been struggling with an education-related dataset, but mostly in a good way. 

Although I'm enjoying work and life in general, I sort of wish I wasn't sticking around for so long. I wish I could spend more time with my parents in my air-conditioned house, eating their food and being appreciated. Maybe the grass is always greener on the other side, but I even missed school a little bit this week. The other day, a friend sent me a link to a feature on one of the residential houses with photos of quintessential components of house life - studying in the dining hall, student performances, housing day, and a spring event in the courtyard. I'm glad I have a chance to get a glimpse of the "real world" this summer but still get one more year at school. I will just need to remember to appreciate it. 

The funniest thing that happened

During my trip last weekend occurred when I wasn't even around. I was staying in the NYU dorms, where my friend shares a suite with 3 other males, which is why I felt pretty confident about leaving my shampoo, conditioner and razor on the edge of the bathtub thinking none of them wanted to smell like Mango Mandarin. I might have been right about that, but when I came back from a day of stuffing myself with Chinese food and went to the bathroom right after one of the guys took a shower, I noticed that my razor was wet and placed in a configuration different from the one in which I had left it. To avoid alienating my friend from his roommates, I didn't confront the guy about it, but I'm pretty sure he used my bright turquoise, obviously girly Venus Goddess razor.

In other news, this week has been excruciatingly hot - over 100 and humid. I have a little air conditioner in my room, but I don't use it to save electricity/just to see if I can. I discussed thoughts on air conditioner use with my housemate, who claims they don't use it because they don't like it, not to save money on electricity, but I'm pretty sure that is a load of bullshit because my housemate does not strike me as the sort of person to ever admit wanting to save money on anything.

Not talking about the rest of my trip just yet

One thing I hadn't anticipated prior to this summer is the amount of difficulty I would have balancing my social life with the demands from work. Somehow, a couple of weeks into my internship, I started having many more things to fill up my evenings. After the first time I stayed at work until 8pm, completely missing happy hour with my intern friend and disappointing her in the process, I learned to not make any concrete plans with anyone and preface all arrangements with "I'm not sure when exactly I'll be getting off work..."

It seems like on most days, I either stay at work until around 7 or I have plans afterwards. Having plans is really nothing to complain about and I'm happy that I do, but I can't help but get kind of cranky when I don't have enough time for myself. I had been looking forward to getting home before 8pm yesterday, but then a friend who'd had a bad weekend asked to hang out, so I obliged. In general, though, it's tough to decide - doing whatever social activity someone is proposing vs. going home and making yummy food alone. Both things make me happy, but I guess I've been doing a lot of the former and not enough of the latter. 

Today, I got off at 6:30 and rushed home to make myself some pasta with turkey meatballs and salad and just generally enjoy life. 

In general, however, I'm curious about how things will go when I graduate and get a full-time job. It's great that I've got one more year of taking about 14 hours of classes and having lots of time to devote to my friends, but I'm pretty worried about what will happen afterwards. I hope I won't have to continue to be late to lunch with friends because of meetings that run late/have to cancel post-work plans/flake on people because I'm too tired..

The pursuit of char siu bao*

And other Asian delicacies was the theme of my trip to NYC this weekend. I dragged my friend to Flushing, Queens - a trip that involves approximately 50 minutes on the above-ground subway through the seedy looking parts of the city - to have some northern Chinese (Dongbei) food with me.

The meal was good, but not as magical as the first time I had some northern Chinese food, but still good. We got complimentary shredded potato salad and vegetable appetizers and ordered what was termed "triple vegetable delight" in the menu.

Part of the reason the meal wasn't as magical as I might have liked was because we made the mistake of ordering "braised pork," which sounded innocent enough, but ended up being not much pork and lots of lard.

The sweet potato with caramelized sugar syrup dessert - the chief reason I had to spend 2 hours going to Flushing and back during my brief trip to New York - did not disappoint. Check out the strings of sugar. Yum.

After lunch, we went to MoMA PS1, which I didn't like nearly as much as I like the regular MoMA. The garden was pretty and the building was cool, but the art was not to my taste.

We spent the rest of the evening wandering around Central Park and chilling.

I have more to say about my trip, but I'm going to bed, so it will have to wait.

*For anyone that cares, char siu bao is the Romanization of the Cantonese pronunciation. For anyone that doesn't care that much, it refers to those delicious BBQ pork buns.

Living the housewife dream, part 2

Although the most crucial component of any housewife's duties is cooking dinner for herself or her family, there are sometimes opportunities to showcase her skills outside the home. Such an opportunity became available to me this weekend, with an invitation to a potluck goodbye barbeque for one of my coworkers. Having had my jalapeno cheddar cornbread baking plans derailed by my housemate, who objected to the heat that the oven would create, I decided to make ginger sesame slaw. 

I'm not sure how the slaw turned out, but the relatively low ratio of side dishes to beer brought by the guests ensured that it was completely gone by the time I had to leave, which is really all I wanted. 

This afternoon, after doing some data entry for a paid RA position I've taken up and listening to my housemate ridicule me for doing work on Sunday, I attempted Indian food again. The decision was largely influenced by my desire to use up the leftover coconut milk that's been staring me in the face every time I open the fridge and justify some of the fixed costs of the pricey curry paste. I'm not sure if they eat very many carrots in India, but I had some I wanted to use up so I cooked them with ginger, cilantro and coconut milk. 

This was the end result. 

Aside from the commuting trouble

The past weekend was actually pretty awesome. A friend of mine came down from NYC, thankfully having done all the touristy stuff at some point prior to this visit and not requiring that we visit every single Smithsonian Museum, or any of them, for that matter. Instead, we went to Old Town Alexandria, which is a quaint little neighborhood. After brunch, we went to a bead shop to play with beads and feel young again.

There are times in life when an ice cream is so good that you are compelled to visit the same ice cream shop multiple times over the course of a single weekend. The Florentine Perche No attained this distinction with its delicious watermelon gelato that we had 4 times over a three-day weekend when I was studying abroad last summer. The urgency to visit the Dairy Godmother, which I will have access to for the rest of the summer, is not nearly as dire, but I did it twice this past weekend anyway.

Yesterday, I made banana chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and made my friend endure the wait associated with plating and photographing the results.

In th evening, we had the truly patriotic experience of listening to country music (because I was too stubborn to go to the better concert) and watching fireworks on the National Mall.

The wheezing sound of an approaching bus

Never sounds as sweet as it does when you are hot, sticky, tired of waiting, and still feeling that strawberry vodka Sprite.

I barely made it onto an early metro after I dashed down the escalator and boldly reprimanded some lady for standing on the walking side of the escalator, but my efforts were all in vain. I ended up waiting for 40 minutes for a bus at Pentagon, in an impressively long line of people. Once the bus finally pulled in 10 minutes late, which was also about 40-50 minutes after people had started waiting, everyone's wonderful northern Virginian manners quickly evaporated into the humid nighttime air and everyone, including those that were in the back of the line or not in line at all, rushed towards the entrance to the bus. There was shoving and yelling, a security guard was brought in, and the bus pulled away without even having been properly filled to capacity when there were still about 10 people ahead of me. In case you're wondering, after a couple of minutes, another bus showed up to collect the other half of the people that had been waiting.

This summer, I've been learning many valuable things, including how to dress for work, cook real food for myself, and sort values properly in Excel. Perhaps the most important lesson that I've learned is to never move to the suburbs unless I have a car. 

My plans to go to Baltimore

Yesterday did not work, so I decided to have a chill housekeeping day and finally cleaned and did laundry again. I also made fake Indian food and had a friend over to help me eat it.

After dinner, we walked through suburban Virginia for about half an hour to get to a Wisconsin-style frozen custard place my housemate recommended. I got the blueberry kind and it was amazing. I am so going back.

Whiny post #3

My project at work is going moderately well. I'm learning cool Excel tricks from the RA that is supervising it and doing my first, though simple, replication exercise! It pretty much worked except for one part.

Apparently the local food trucks have Farragut Friday, for which, as the name might suggest, many of them park in Farragut Square on Fridays. My intern friend and I have decided to make Friday food truck lunch a tradition for the summer. 

After work - which was supposed to end at 2:00 in preparation for the long weekend, but actually ended at 2:30 for me - I went to Old Town Alexandria for my very first visit to an ABC Store, where ABC stands for Alcoholic Beverage Control. That's how they sell liquor in Virginia. On my way over from the subway, I walked through a neighborhood that seemed sketchy, a feeling that only intensified when I passed by two guys sitting on a porch and heard a comment about "that booty" as my hind side receded into the distance. 

Once at the ABC Store, I saw Sweet Tea vodka (only in the South...) and took not one, but TWO pictures of it to post on here, however, just like the last time, they didn't get saved onto my phone! Also, I know smartphones aren't exactly known for long-lasting battery life, but it's been discharging completely every 4 hours! Yes, I know, first-world problems.

If you happen to notice the time stamp on this post, you'll see that I am home, writing it at 11pm on Friday night when I could be swatting off drunk admirers at a club instead. I went to jazz in the Sculpture Garden - which has become a permanent fixture of my DC life - and then to Five Guys, where I didn't actually get anything, but inhaled all my friends' extra fries that end up on the bottom of the paper bag. As I was standing behind some lady and waiting to get ketchup, I held my purse and felt that treacherous vibration that my phone performs when it turns off because the battery is completely drained. Unwilling to try to get home after a night of clubbing without the help of trusty Google Maps and the general feeling of assurance that comes with having a working cellphone, I decided to head back at 9pm. And here I am. 

I wonder what it would be like

To be really smart, rich, and important. I heard something about a person that fits those attributes not being completely satisfied with his stay at the hotel where my organization hosted their event, which, by the way, went well, although a couple of the presenters talked too much. Naturally, during those intervals, I zoned out exactly like I do in lectures at school, so one of my main takeaways from the event was that the granola they served for a complimentary breakfast was possibly the best I've ever tasted. I don't want to generalize the quality of the granola, or even the rest of that breakfast, which was pretty damn good, to the quality of the stay in that hotel, though I can't help but think - it couldn't have been that bad. That brings me back to my original point - I wonder what it would be like to be so smart, rich and important that you could be picky about an establishment like that.

In other news, my organization had a lunch outing today and we went to a Burmese restaurant. We had this great dessert plate - coconut cake, tapioca pearl pudding, and some ice cream - of which I thought I had taken a photo, but I can't actually find it now. 

Today was

Another one of those days when I stay at work until 8pm. I've done something after work on Monday and Tuesday, so I was really hoping to get home early today, but alas, no such luck. In preparation for my latest project, I'm doing some data entry from a book of values that looks remarkably similar to the one I used when I was entering boring housing loan data as an RA for an economic historian, but I guess that's just the format that the government used to publish things back then. I'm pretty excited about this project - it seems simple in theory, but I've never used Excel to make any substantial graphs, so this will be fun.

What's less fun about work is the fact that I haven't gotten paid yet. In earlier negotiations, I asked that my stipend - which my employers said they would prefer to give me in a lump sum - be allocated somewhat early in the summer, so I could pay rent. I asked about it over a week ago and have followed up since, but the relevant person hasn't gotten back to me yet. Thinking about it logically, I know it's not a huge deal - I'll pay this month's rent with my savings and everything will be ok, but the whole situation is a great lesson in how much it sucks to be an intern. It's not as if this is Dairy Queen and I can just up and leave to find another job. I depend on them not only for the money but also for the work experience. And yes, obviously, there's nothing I can do about the fact that nowadays, internships are pretty much a pre-requisite for getting a job after college besides play along with it and get one for myself, but it doesn't make me less inclined to whine about it.

I finally

Went to the gym for the first time in the three weeks that I've been here. I'm not a huge fan of gyms, but sitting in place for 9 hours a day has been making me really want to exercise. Of course, after I came home, I promptly cancelled any possible effects it might have had by having some leftover strawberry pancakes that I made on Sunday.

In other news, my work is hosting an event tomorrow and I'm super excited. Even though it means I have to wake up early, put on the shirt I was too lazy to iron and hope will look good anyway, and ride the bus over to the unfamiliar venue.

My latest assignment at work

Has been really great. I'm using a huge data set and learning lots of Stata code from the RA who's a total pro at it. The downside is, the computers at work are really slow, so it often takes awhile for the code to run. Sometimes it takes so long, that, combined with the tendency of data analysis to take three times as long as you had planned for it to, it ruins my plans and requires my attention past my usual hours of 9am-6pm. On Wednesday, I stayed until almost 8pm, missing my happy hour plans with another intern and making others wait for me. But at times like that, I just remind myself, at least I'm not doing i-banking.

On Thursday, my department had their annual summer party/BBQ and it was delicious. Yesterday was another great food day - I snagged some leftovers from the BBQ for lunch and my boss bought us cookies. After work, I went to jazz in the garden with again, and this time, I made the wise decision to partake in the sangria consumption and was reminded of how great (read: effective) it is to have wine before dinner. We went to dinner at an extremely authentic Chinese restaurant that boasted $8.95 dinner specials and I had my first sake bomb (or three).

After dinner, we went to a few clubs and I crashed at my friend's house in the city, unwilling to try to repeat last week's Friday night commute adventure with a starting time of 2am rather than midnight.

Today, I went to the Hirshhorn - the modern art museum that is shaped like a doughnut. It was great as usual.

After the museum, I tried frozen custard, an ice-cream-like delicacy that's a bit creamier but also melts faster. I was being peer-pressured to go to a famous chili place with others, but I resisted, went home, and made real food for myself for the first time since about a week ago. This installment is Greek-themed. Without the feta.

The day I didn't have dinner

I know I've been posting a lot of pictures of food on this blog, but there is something quite important to me that I haven't allowed myself to buy. Every time I'm at the grocery store, I contemplate the ice cream section but decide to save the scarce freezer real estate for actual nutritious food.

Today after work, I had planned to go to an event sponsored by my school's alumni association to mingle and hang out with people, but my plan was derailed. At the end of the work day, my coworker invited me to ice cream with them. Anyone that knows me will understand - there was no way I could resist. Apparently, one of the people in my department celebrates the solstice by getting a Vermontster - a 20-scoop, 4-topping, 4-banana, whole cookie/brownie and whipped cream sundae that comes in a bucket.

The guy with same last name as mine is known for being a "bottomless pit" when it comes to food and he may have started out strong, but when he stopped, I kept going, making up for 2.5 ice-cream-less weeks with a vengeance and surprising all 6 of my companions as well as earning myself the title of MVP in the process.

Afterwards, I was very full of ice cream, and didn't feel like catching the end of the alum event, so I went to Safeway and got 7 pounds of refrigerated poultry instead. I think I'm set for the summer.

This weekend

Was great. On Saturday morning, I finally managed to make the corn fritters for which I was missing half of the ingredients last weekend.

In the afternoon, I went to the Air and Space museum. 

Today, I tried to make my own hummus and pita chips, neither of which turned out well (I blame my housemate's crappy blender for the former), so I'm not posting any brag photos. I did, however, successfully make some delicious fake Asian food - lemon chicken and rice. 

Commute fail #2. Times two.

I've decided to make this a series because I have a feeling it's going to be a common theme throughout the summer.

Yesterday morning, I thought I had time, so I dawdled a little bit, then decided it wasn't a huge deal if I caught the 8:10 bus. Unfortunately, the 8:10 bus never showed up, so I got onto the 8:20, which, of course, got stuck in a huge traffic jam, so the ride that should have taken 11 minutes actually took 35. I caught the Blue line at the Pentagon, but it was super packed and my access to the highly sought after vertical hold bar was directly obstructed by the considerably sized beer bellies of two men. I'm too short to reach the horizontal bar at the top, so I just thought I'd put my feet at shoulder width and stick it out. Which I did, until I almost fell over onto someone behind me and one of the beer belly guys moved to accommodate me.

After work, I went to the jazz concert at the sculpture garden with a friend from school and a fellow intern. We got a prime spot, on the inner side of the ledge around the artificial pond, which lets you dip your feet into the water.

The whole affair made even more memorable by the sporadic torrential rain that soaked my shoes and pants. Towards the end of the concert, some people, likely full of sangria that is sold in plastic pitchers throughout the event, strutted to the center of the pond.

Following the concert, we went to the Ultrabar happy hour/mixer to mingle with people from other schools. It was slow to start, but got better as time went on. I stayed until midnight, when the ratio of college kids to sketchy randos got too low.

After the happy hour, I decided I would ride the Blue line to the Pentagon and either catch a bus from there or call a cab. I missed the 12:30am bus by about 3 minutes, so I was going to split a cab with some dude also going to Alexandria. The cab company told me there was going to be a wait of half an hour or more, but I thought that was the only cab for that area, so I said ok. After I had waited for about 45 minutes - at which point the wait for the bus was only a few more minutes - the cab finally showed up and I opted for the bus instead.

I finally got home at 2am, which made me feel as if I had just returned from a regular Friday night out at school and miss my friends who would not be around to recap the happenings of the night with.

The weather

Has been compelling me to wear pants to work - twice this week, actually. I even made the executive decision to rip the tag off my new beige cropped pants and wear them before receiving my chief business casual wardrobe advisor's (my mom) approval because it was gonna be so damn cold. I might as well have stayed in Cambridge.

I ended up looking pretty stylish, though, and I hope the multiple attractive guys I see daily on my commute took notice.

Work was kind of unfortunate because right after someone sent out a food truck locator over a list I'm on, making me super hungry, I discovered that the apple I'd left at work 2 days ago - rather than retaining its crispness - froze in the subarctic temperature of our refrigerator. Plus, I got a sort of boring assignment due at noon tomorrow that I actually considered doing "homework" for and doing some of it at home, but decided that my dinner and a brief walk through the neighborhood were more important. Speaking of my dinner, as one of my friends has astutely guessed today, if I don't post pictures of what I ate, it's probably because I've been eating the same thing for several days. I can't seem to make small enough fractions of recipes to maintain variety in my meals - ever try to split a raw egg into fourths, anyone? Although, today, I supposedly cooked two servings of polenta, but had a pretty hard time keeping myself from eating it all.

DC drivers

On the other hand, are quite loud and impatient. I have never walked through Dupont Circle without hearing a cacophony of honking from various cars, sometimes for seemingly no reason, sometimes purely to express frustration at another driver over and over and over again. Whenever I try to cross before the pedestrian sign lights up and hear honking, I always get freaked out and think someone is about to run me over, but that's never actually the case.

At work today, I had an exciting mission. I had to deliver important documents (by which I mean our previous published papers) to the Senate. My supervisor gave me a giant yellow envelope, but didn't seal it, anticipating that I would have to present the contents for inspection at the metal detector. I must have looked suspicious, clueless, or both, because at the security checkpoint, they asked if I was making a delivery, told me I can't come in, and directed me to the delivery station - a building that looks like a trailer - stationed on the other side of the parking lot. Once there, I found out it would take 48 hours before the documents reach the recipient. When I called my supervisor to tell her what was going on, she was upset they sent me to the "scary metal box" but said the timing would be ok. At first, I didn't understand what she meant by scary metal box, but thinking back on it, it really is. Here is the procedure they had me go through:

1. Present my ID so I could be registered in the system
2. Turn around and look at the camera
3. Place the envelope on a table under the camera in a specific position so that the label could be photographed
4. Put the envelope into a big ziploc bag
5. Put the envelope into a second big ziploc bag with an orange sticker
6. Run the envelope through the x-ray machine
7. Put the envelope into the mail slot

By the way, all of the instructions were given over a creepy, seriously crackly intercom and the whole process took 10 minutes. The most puzzling part is why this needed to be done in my particular case. If there was any metal or explosive material in an envelope, it could be detected with the metal detector and x-ray at the building security checkpoint. If there was a biological weapon, it probably wouldn't be hand-delivered it in an open envelope. Basically, I'm just cranky I didn't get to go inside the senate building.

People who use public transportation

To get to work in DC do so in a very courteous manner. On one of my first mornings here, I got to the bus stop earlier than anyone else, put in my headphones and tuned out. When the bus arrived, I glanced back and noticed a whole group of people behind me in a very specific configuration - they had arranged themselves in a straight line, all facing in the same direction, with about 2 feet of space in between each person. Had I not known any better, I would have thought they had broken off a marching formation. I've been noticing this all the time and even took a picture when I wasn't the first one to arrive to the bus stop, however, because there were only two people ahead of me, the pristine structure was not quite as impressive.

Today, I visited an apartment for another friend and really hit it off with the landlord. It turned out that she's Mongolian and loves Russians, so we spoke Russian for a bit while she showed me around. Though she's a bit younger, she reminded me a great deal of my mom - she had been a doctor in Mongolia and goes back to visit family, but when asked about why she moved here, she shrugged and said, "everyone wants to live here." We bonded over an appreciation for Russian food - although she has more of it than I do - and "druzhba narodov," or the brotherly relationship of our respective nations in their Communist past. As I was leaving, she gave me a piece of my favorite Russian candy! I know, maybe taking candy from strangers is not the best idea, but I couldn't resist. I couldn't resist devouring it the moment I left the apartment either, but fortunately for the purposes of this blog, it's the kind of candy for which the wrapper can be reconstructed to look like the candy is still inside - something we did back in elementary school to fool each other into accepting an empty candy wrapper.

Living the domestic dream

Finally. With no plans for the day, I could enact my housewife fantasy life, at last. I decided I would make cornmeal fritters for breakfast - a tried and true recipe I've made several times. I encountered a number of setbacks - each one more insurmountable than the other. No corn kernels? Oh well, it'll just lack texture. No milk? Hmm.. ingredient substitution chart found on the web says water with a spoon of butter can be used for baking instead. No baking soda? That's a toughie, increasing the amount of baking powder can make things bitter. And the kicker? I had bought corn flour instead of corn meal. Ooops. So I made regular pancakes instead.

I was doing the dishes - with just 2 spoons and the griddle left to go - and feeling pretty proud of myself when my housemate came back, asked if I had made crêpes and gave me a strange look when I said I hadn't. Apparently, the "griddle" I had used was actually a crêpe pan. And I wasn't supposed to oil it. Nor make pancakes in it. So if you think my pancakes look weird, there is a variety of potential reasons why. The crêpe pan ultimately emerged unharmed, by the way, in case you're wondering. 


Despite my initial misstep, I forged ahead and continued occupying the kitchen for several more hours. I was determined to make a Mexican-themed dinner (TexMex, to be precise): machaca (shredded beef), refried beans, rice, and pico de gallo (salsa). The meat turned out edible, but tasted completely wrong, so it would be more aptly named "gringa machaca."

After dinner, I put my practiced dorm crew skills to use and cleaned the bathroom so my housemate won't think I'm a pig (and forgive me for the pan misuse in case he hadn't already). 

Fun-filled day

Was yesterday and left me too tired to post. At 8am, I got up to tag along to the farmers market with my housemate to buy delicious-smelling peaches and snap peas. After we got back, my brother brought all the things I had stored at his house and kindly drove me to Safeway and the Alexandria version of a Food City where I loaded up on cheap produce. In exchange, I made him lunch before he went on his way.

After lunch, I went to DC to meet a few friends and visit the Spy Museum, where approximately a third of the gadgets in the exhibits were from the Russian KGB. Surprise, surprise. On our way over to the summer kick-off barbeque, which happened to be in the neighborhood where many ambassadors live, we encountered some really impressive houses, like the one below that reminds me of a castle.  

On our way back, there was yet more beautiful architecture. 

We had planned to go to Safeway, pick up a bit of food and go to a potluck BBQ, but by the time we were in Metro Center, it was almost 9pm, and the electronic display board that usually so reliably advertises the arrivals of the next three trains was showing dashes where the "Number of cars" and "Line" would usually be and "17" for the number of minutes. On the other side of the platform, however, the next Blue line train in the direction of Pentagon station was arriving in just 6 minutes, in time to take me back before the buses became really scarce. And so I bailed. 

Even despite the unattended BBQ, it was a great day and I'm sure there will be plenty of other opportunities to contribute/sample the wine I had planned to bring to the potluck. 

I finished my first week at work!

My superiors were a bit slow to give me things to do at first, but they're picking up the pace. I've been practicing my time management skills as I switch between a short-term project and a more long-term one. The former involves researching prominent figures in the field of education reform, while the latter is making a list of various data sets that contain educational attainment statistics. Even though I'm basically just scouring google search results for the first assignment, it's been interesting to read about the field. Sometimes I get distracted and click on links that lead me to fervent reactionary articles from teachers and the like. The downside is, trying to synthesize my own view on an issue is quite difficult when I consider all the various interests at stake. 

In general, work has been fun. So far, I've met almost everyone, except perhaps the most important person of all - the RA that shares my relatively uncommon last name. Yesterday, we had a staff meeting and I helped my supervisor carry back coffee and the giant - approximately the size of my face - cookies that we bought at a nearby bakery. Due to the absence of my long-lost cousin, who is rumored to eat a lot, the cookies were not finished by the end of the meeting. Someone suggested leaving them on his desk, but apparently last time food was left in his office, some sort of incident with a mouse followed the next day. I suppose it's nice to know that such problems are not unique to my dorm. 

After work yesterday, there was a reception for interns and new employees which was a great opportunity for me to meet people, or more accurately, shove free appetizers into my mouth. I did meet people, though, including a Wellesley girl who gave me a knowing nod when I answered her question about where I go to school. She understood what I meant when I asked if she visits, readily admitting that she does - mostly to go to the clubs. 

In other news, I am finally getting the rest of my stuff tomorrow from my brother who is kindly bringing it over. Soon, people at work will know that I own articles of clothing besides the same 4 black skirts!

Commute fail

I had big plans for the evening - visiting an apartment for a friend who's soon to be in DC, then promptly getting back to my suburban paradise and walking to Safeway for some groceries before it got dark. I successfully visited the apartment and enjoyed the view on my way over so much that I even took a picture. I guess I did a pretty bad job with the photo, but basically, there were lots of trees and water.

I decided it might be easier to go to a Safeway in the city (6 mins away from where I was) and then just ride the metro back home rather than going to the one that's 15 mins away from home. My brilliant plan was derailed slightly when I realized the red line doesn't intersect the blue line in the direction that I was going, so I had to modify my travel plans slightly. No big deal - I just rode to the equivalent of Boston's Downtown Crossing, which serves 3 different lines. In my subway car, there was a pack of bros wearing nothing but pastel and seersucker, two of whom performed a simultaneous pull-up and chest bump maneuver off the upper metal handlebar. I transferred onto what I thought was the blue line, but it turned out that it wasn't. Long story short, I spent awhile trying to get back home and thinking about the amount of bacterial pathogens the raw meat from my grocery shopping trip must have been accumulating. However, all is well that ends well. I'm home safe and planning to eradicate the bacteria in my housemates' triple-coated aluminum cookware tomorrow. 

First day of work

Was actually yesterday and I think it went pretty well. In the morning, I boarded a bus full of other business casually-clad people on my way to the Pentagon, where I found out there is no such thing as a monthly pass for the transportation system and transferred onto the blue metro line, which took me to work.

I met about a third of the people in my department because the rest are scrambling to use up their vacation days before they expire at the end of the fiscal year. My first assignment - which I failed to complete successfully - was researching the biographies of two Canadian ambassadors who seem to have no public presence on the internet. It got better from there, though, and I got to leave early.

My parents are extremely curious about what I'm eating, and for that matter, whether I am eating at all. The answer is a resounding yes. I have been eating the same pasta+chicken+spinach+parmesan concoction for 3 days now. On the second and third days, I even added - perhaps too much - ricotta cheese, but I think it's ok because I feel like I'm burning 200 calories from each walk up the hill with my groceries. I also stir-fried some zucchini to go along with my pasta feast today.

One of the most ironic things about my food is that it's not such a large departure from what I despised and ranted about last summer. First thing I made? Pasta. Side dish from yesterday? Salad with the old olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing in which I used to drench my precious shredded carrots - basically my only source of vitamins last summer. Experimental coffee with the K-Cup competitor machine this morning? A latte. Or "latte macchiato," as they called it in Italy.

Work was more exciting today, and while I haven't made any groundbreaking discoveries just yet, I think I'm catching on. I met one of the heads of my department today, expecting to talk about my role in the project or some assignment, but all we talked about was his weekend and the meal he had at what we determined to have been Cafe Poca Cosa while traveling through Tucson a few years ago.

I'm here!

I've been here since yesterday, but I was too tired from unpacking and foraging for food to post.

I'm renting a room in a townhouse owned by a young married couple. I have only met the guy because the wife is traveling for work, but it seems that I've picked the right people to live with. When I arrived, he was in the middle of making a chocolate tart and we spent awhile talking about food. He loves cooking and eating as much as I do and has offered to take me along to the farmers market when he goes next weekend.

The house is as lovely in real life as it looked in the pictures from the Craigslist post. The wife is from Poland and there are many aspects of the decor that remind me of my childhood - lacy curtains, wooden kitchen implements, ornate silverware, and etc.

Now, I'm off to enjoy the weather, which was actually only warm for the first half of the past week in Cambridge.

I don't have much to say

About cleaning toilets, but I feel like I should update, so here it goes.

I spent the entire morning pissed off at the guy I was working with because he kept singing along to Bob Dylan, using only one hand to hold the broom, and just being generally bad at cleaning. Perhaps the most impressive thing about him was the fact that his pants - into which he'd tucked his shirt - were pulled up to incredible heights. I hadn't realized that normal jeans could go halfway up to one's chest, but now I see what wonders a belt can do!

In other news, I got a haircut at a little hole-in-the-wall place in North Cambridge because I'm just that adventurous (translation: cheap). It turned out pretty well, I think. 

Back in Boston

Of course, Cambridge weather gets good when I've only got five more days to enjoy it, most of which will be spent doing more dorm crew. I'm not sure why I was so excited to borrow my brother's sleeping bag - looks like it might not even be necessary.

I had a very enjoyable outing to Shaws to buy my upcoming week's worth of food. I couldn't get anything that required any actual cooking or dishes, which made me even more excited to commence living in DC where I will have access to a real kitchen. I won't have to go outside to get to it! I'm pretty sure it won't be in a basement and if I'm lucky, it might even be well-lit!

On the way back, I thought I'd take a closer entrance and got lost in the unfamiliar depths of Comstock Hall. Oh quad life... 

Happiness is... farm-fresh produce

At least for me.

I went to Richmond, VA with my brother and his girlfriend yesterday. We stayed in a lovely Southern house on the outskirts of Richmond, where her grandmother had lived. It had a covered porch, a swing, and three rocking chairs, all in matching white wood. I had barbeque twice in one day - for lunch and dinner, the former being Texas-style, the latter proper Southern BBQ. By the way, in the South, when one uses "barbeque" as a noun, they are explicitly referring to pork. Here is a picture of my real southern BBQ. The sketchily oblong things are hush puppies - deep fried scraps of cornbread batter.

My brother claims these are the best hush puppies he's ever had, but perhaps the snack is not for me in general.

After dinner, my brother's girlfriend's family took us on a drive through Richmond, showing me the main sights. Perhaps my favorite part of the evening was coming home and having vanilla ice cream with strawberries and peaches from the farmers market.

Today, my brother's girlfriend took me to the produce stand where the fruits had been acquired and I bought more of each, as well as a Georgia tomato that I devoured raw at dinner today.

 

When I was at the produce stand, taking too many pictures with my big camera, one of the workers started making small talk with me. When I told him I was from Arizona, I had to repeat myself - he seemed pretty confused about why one would come all the way from Arizona to a rural town near Richmond. Otherwise, he was quite pleasant, as everybody else had been during my time in Richmond, even strangers. Overall, my experience in Richmond almost made me reconsider the South as somewhere I could live after graduation.