A Tourist in my Pocket

Next month marks my third anniversary as a DC resident, and my adoration for this city grows with every year. The only thing I love more than exploring this city is when people from back home come to visit me. Showing someone else the wonders of DC is like seeing it again myself for the first time. I often walk alone through the city and feel like the luckiest person in the world to be able to live in such a wonderful place. Last week I walked to the zoo. How often does the average person visit a zoo? Once a year? I can walk four blocks and pay the elephants a visit any day of the week. There is so much to see and do in this city and I hope I never take any of it for granted. Having visitors is always a great way to share my enthusiasm for the city.

This week I have a new guest staying with me. His name is Flat Stanley, and he comes from a second grade class in Illinois, not far from where I grew up. Stanley belongs to the daughter of a dear friend who I have known my whole life. He arrived yesterday via USPS (a very reasonable alternative to air travel in this day and age.) He's very quiet, extremely polite and doesn't have much of an appetite. He's still a bit envelope-lagged from so much travel, so this weekend he will rest up and on Monday he's going to come to work with me and I'll show him around the city. We have a lot of fun stuff planned - we'll visit the National Zoo, Union Station, and as many monuments as we can pack in while he's here. Of course we will have to have a photo-op in front of the White House as well. Poor Stanley really wants to meet the President. I tried to explain to him about the Secret Service and since I don't know the Salahi's, there's no way we can just drop in and visit the President without a formal invitation. He told me he understood, but he seemed a little disappointed. Hopefully a visit to the National Postal Museum will take his mind off of it. After his long journey through the mail, the Postal Museum seems like the ideal place to begin his adventures as a tourist in DC. I am looking forward to showing him around the city and taking lots of pictures before I send him back to his second grade classroom in Illinois next week.

As you can see from his big smile in the picture, Stanley is very happy to be here. He is especially enjoying my copy of Strange Bedfellows, by Russell L. Peterson. He says he wants to learn a bit more about politics before he starts to explore the nation's capital. He finds the book to be a fascinating and well-researched study on the relationship between "infotainment" & political comedy and the political process. He's surprisingly intellectual for a second grader.

Reflection and Perspective

I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't know how to read. If you ask my mother, she will probably tell you that as soon as the umbilical cord was severed, I read the hospital chart to learn my last name. Mothers are prone to exaggeration.

Exaggerations and proud parents aside, one of my earliest memories is before I began Kindergarten. The details of my memory are somewhat unreliable, but I believe it was an assessment before I started school. A young woman sat across from me and said, "When I say a word, I want you to repeat after me, okay?" I consented, eager to please. She began, "Okay, repeat after me. DOG." I quickly responded, "D-O-G." For whatever reason, I spelled the word instead of repeating it. As I remember it, it was an automatic reaction to her ridiculously easy exercise, but memory being unreliable I will not count out that this younger version of me was simply trying to show off. It is entirely possible that my aim was to impress the lady.

Whatever my intentions, the thing I remember next is her getting up immediately after I spelled the word and going over to talk to someone else. I was certain that I was in trouble. I hadn't followed directions. I was paralyzed in fear. I had screwed up and not followed directions and now they weren't going to let me into school. Oh how excited I was to finally begin school and right then I had just ruined it with the word dog. (or was it cat? Perhaps I spelled out a dog-cat-house trifecta and sent this woman off in a flurry.) As it turns out, I was not in trouble at all. I had impressed her with my superior spelling skills and the resulting discussion amongst grown ups was to discuss my accelerated reading skills. I was allowed to go to school after all. Kindergarten was a half day, beginning at noon. I spent the following years unable to understand why I couldn't begin every day at noon and revolting against anything that began before 11 a.m. This is something I still struggle with today.

There is a reason I have been reflecting upon my literary beginnings. I have to give credit (or blame?) to my good friend Paul on this one. Paul is an extremely talented writer and he has always encouraged me to continue to write and complimented my abilities to put words together - whether it be on a blog, in a million letters written back and forth, or (ideally) somewhere that people would actually pay money to read what I have written. The latter being unlikely without a great deal of work, I appreciate Paul's nudges to continue to keep my writing skills sharp in whatever way possible. Recently after reading my blog and learning of my financial shortcomings, he sent me words of encouragement. He reminded me to keep writing, and assured me that one day I would look back and see this period of my life as "character building."

I say this with full confidence that anyone who knows me will agree: If I had any more character, I would need to be described as "A character." I have gotten myself into more "character building" situations than I care to admit. But I can't deny that the difficult times have taught me a lot about myself, and those lessons are invaluable. So, considering Paul's advice and encouragement, I began to reflect upon my favorite books throughout my life.

When I consider the most influential books throughout my life, one theme is constantly repeated. Without question, the most inspiring book of my youth was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. As I read the story of Francie Nolan escaping the realities of her difficult young life through her imagination and love of reading, I escaped my own challenges and awkwardness. I was very young when I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott and immediately felt a connection to Jo March as she read to her little sisters and felt a passion for writing. In my adult life, I was moved by Frank McCourt's memoir, Angela's Ashes. Again, I felt an emotional connection to the story about someone who survived unimaginable circumstances and poverty by relying on imagination and his natural storytelling ability. All of these books have such a special place in my heart, and each of them tells the story of someone who survives poverty by relying upon the strength of family, and the power of imagination.

As desperate as my financial situation feels, my life is privileged when compared to my literary heroes. To compare my challenges to theirs (and their respective authors) even in my current situation would be to celebrate my own prosperity. I may whine about my well-being, but I am far from tearing down the ceilings in my apartment to keep the fire going for heat. I face challenges, but I can not describe myself as suffering. For this, I gain strength from the perseverance shown by the characters in these books. And like them, I gain strength from the people around me.

I would never have had the courage to move to Washington, D.C. on my own and pursue a career if I did not have the strength of my friends and family back home. Sometimes the word "friends" is not strong enough, and the people in my life can only be described as family. Now that I am here, it is the new friendships I have made that encourages me to stay and find fulfillment in D.C. Even if it means working seven days a week, trying to climb a ladder that often doesn't appear to have steps, and to do whatever it takes to keep afloat in difficult financial times. It has been difficult, nearly impossible, to live within my means in my current situation. It is difficult when you don't have enough money to make ends meet. But I would not trade the people in my life for all the money in the world. My financial situation is coming together and will eventually be in order. I can live with these months of sacrifices and I can even stay positive if I keep reminding myself to rely on those two important things. The support of the people around me, and the power of the imagination. As long as I have my friends and family, I will never be alone. As long as I have my imagination, I will never be bored. Sometimes I just need to remind myself never to take either of those things for granted. And sometimes I need Paul to remind me. Thanks, Paul. And thanks to all of the people I am incredibly blessed to have in my life: My friends, my family, and my books.

To my friends: A few things you need to know

I have some of the best friends in the whole world. The hardest part of leaving Iowa was moving so far away from people who mean the world to me. It took me a lifetime to find friends who are as close as family to me. But while it was so hard to move away and miss spending time together, our friendship gives me so much strength that I could not have made this move without you guys. I miss you terribly, but you have made me a better person and no amount of distance between us will break those ties.

Being in DC, I have met very few people who I consider to be genuine. At times I fear that I may lose part of myself and become like the majority of people I meet in DC. But I have met a few people out here who remind me how important it is to be yourself and the rest of the world be damned. It is through the people in life with whom you make an instant connection with that you’re reminded – even though the entire world has gone mad – there are a few of us who refuse to fall in line with society’s expectations. And I really think that we may just be the only ones who have it figured out.

I’ve realized something lately about those of us who are magnificent misfits. That is, those of us who suspect that maybe we actually have it all figured out in this crazy world we live in – in large part, we tend to be really insecure, rather self-conscious people. It’s really sad, because not fitting in can be a good thing. It can be a great thing. But at the same time, it’s so hard to get over that feeling that something is wrong with you because you’re not like everyone else. I just wanted to write this today to tell you guys – I am so damn glad that I do not fit in here in this capitol city. I have met a select few people (exatly 3, I think) who are really genuine and straightforward. I’ve met others who share my sense of humor and I can laugh and be myself with. They are few and far between, but when you meet someone that you can really be yourself around, it’s a wonderful thing.

J and Pops, you are family; if I could think of a stronger word, I would use it. Keisha and Stephy, you are always there for me and I hope I am always there for you - you are my rock. Anthony – you are in a class all by yourself, my friend. Without your friendship for the last 12 years, I would not have made it through so many hard times. I wish you all the happiness in the world because you deserve it. Jenna and Derek, I am constantly amazed by how close we were able to become and to stay in touch in such a short period of time. Both of you know the true meaning of friendship. Angie, Amanda, and Army Guy - our friendship started with hockey games and I wish we kept in better touch, but you are three of my closest friends. Tyler, I’m not great at keeping in touch with you either, but I still think there are times that you’re the only one who gets me. Brad, Alicia, Darrin, Holly, Richard, and Kerry – I don’t even know if you guys read my blog regularly because we so rarely keep in touch, but you have all come through for me and I hope you will always consider me a friend.

Sorry for getting sentimental, guys. I just don’t want there ever to be any doubt about how much I love all of you. And most importantly & most deservedly – Mom, Dad, Mark, Grandma… you have been putting up with me for far longer than anyone else. Without you, I truly would not be the person I am today. Thank you for making me who I am, thank you for your absolute love and support. If a measure of a person is by the friends they make in life, you should be incredibly proud of me. I am truly blessed.

I'm fine, how are you?

I told everyone I'd keep this blog to let you all know how I'm doing but somewhere along the line it took a turn and became a collection of silly adventures and shoe mishaps. I suppose I can't help it that sometimes my shoes are the most interesting thing about me, but I guess I should hold up my end of the "keeping in touch" deal. Plus, I keep getting the same questions. So, without further ado, here's the real answers to the questions I answer with, "Fine" or "good" or whatever.

#1) How am I doing? I don't usually answer this one honestly b/c I don't want anyone to worry about me and if I said what I was thinking: "Well - I work seven days a week, I chipped a tooth and the dentist told me it would be $650, Everything is ridiculously expensive so I could really use a day off work but I can't afford it, I'm getting fat, and the other day my toilet overflowed at 11:00 at night and they didn't come fix it until 9:30 the next morning.

Now, don't get me wrong. It may sound like I'm miserable out here, but that's not true at all. Although, it would be true to say that life is fully of annoying krap no matter where you are. Even when things are going great, you can always find something to make you feel depressed.

#2) How is work? Great Actually! Things are going better than expected at work. My job is pretty much the same kind of work I was doing before as an administrative assistant, it's just really far away in a really expensive city at a fairly well-known non-profit organization. In the beginning, I was so envious of the people upstairs (our offices are on two separate floors.) I really wanted to be doing research and it was frustrating at first to be fixing the copy machine and typing memos instead. After a few weeks, I have a new perspective.

Part of my new perspective is because I was asked to help with the newsletter. It's not part of my job or anything, but someone in the fundraising department asked me to help proofread the monthly newsletter. I sat in on the meeting and offered to help with a few different things. It was nice to have a creative project and it's made life more pleasant. I have to admit that even though my current position wouldn't have been my first choice, it is a great experience as far as entry-level work goes. After I came to terms w/my envy for the researchers upstairs, I noticed that they don't seem to leave their offices very much. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and I still hope to do that job someday; but in this administrative position, I interact with everyone. When I move up - whether it's within the same organization or a different job entirely - I will take with me experience working with all of the departments as well as some outside connections. It's definitely to my benefit to be on a first name basis with the directors. Plus, I pitched a new idea today that the president and chief of staff were both very supportive of. I'm really excited about it. It's 100% my project, so it will involve a lot of work on my end, but everyone else will be able to reap the benefits once it gets going. I don't want to make too much of it because I don't know how it will work out in the end, but if I can get the word out and build some interest it could be noteworthy. If it doesn't work out, no harm done - but if it does it could be a nice feather in my cap. More on that later.

#3) Have I made any friends yet? I hate this question!! People ask me all the time and much like question #1, I don't know how to answer it honestly. I have the best friends in the world and they're located in the Midwest. I have such a strong connection with my friends back home, I couldn't imagine finding that here in DC in a million years. It works out well for me because I am constantly in contact with people who are not my "friends" - neighbors, co-workers, co-workers [other job], people on the Metro... there are people everywhere out here. Hell, there's about twenty five people standing on the sidewalk on the next block in front of the movie theater! [Yes, they were lined up for Batman when I got home at 7:30] So, if the question is - am I lonely? The answer is no. Have I made friends? Yes - back in Iowa. It took me ten years to do it and they are only a phone call away.

#4) How is DC? Fun, fascinating, and expensive!

#5) Isn't it scary to live so far away from home? No. That's not scary. Living in the same place your entire life is scary.

#6) Is it dangerous out there? When it comes to crime in DC, there is definitely a pattern. I was just reading a blog by a friend from U of I who is working for a program teaching special ed in a neighborhood called Anacostia. I've never been to Anacostia, but I know that it's not a place that a whimsical Iowa gal like me should just wander into (nor anyone else who uses the word "whimsical" for that matter.) [Although there was an uncharacteristic shooting a few miles from my apartment on Sunday. It happened at noon, someone was shot in the leg and the witnesses chased the dude down until the cops got him. That's a hell of a neighborhood watch program.] It's interesting to me to think about how different our experiences are. We both wrote a column for the DI, both graduated from the U of I this year w/a Communication Studies degree, we both moved to Washington, DC immediately after graduation, but when he goes to work every day it's in a neighborhood that, according to wikipedia, "is primarily known for its excessive crime rates." We should get together in a year and exchange stories. That would make a good movie plot.

Well, I think that covers it. Let me know if I missed anything, and congratulations if you actually read this entire entry. I'm never at a loss for words. But, now that we got this out of the way, the next time you call me we can talk about you!!

Mark Your Calendars for the Iowa City Brewfest!

It's a tradition and it's officially on the calendar - the Iowa City Brewfest is on Saturday, September 20th from 11am to 5pm. I will be booking my flight back soon, and I can't wait to come back and see everyone. Many of you have told me you were "definitely coming" to the brewfest this year. I'm giving you plenty of advance notice so you can put your money where your mouth is. (and in a couple months put your lager where your mouth is... and your porter, your ale, your cider, your lambic, etc...)