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.