Just Don't Expect to Find Honeycomb

Road trip!  I had the chance to go on a wonderful road trip (about 9 hours each way) with one of my favorite people.  We drove from San Diego to the Grand Canyon in Darla, our shiny red Chevy Cobalt.  She did much better on the way back to San Diego because we were going down- from 6,000 ft elevation to sea level.  She was not a fan of the hills, like me when I'm biking.

The drive was mostly through the desert and the soundtrack was mostly '90s pop with some early '00s thrown in for variety.  It's amazing how you still know the words of songs you haven't heard for 10 years.  Even if we did sometimes come in a little early on the chorus.  The gas stations were not yet equipped to pay at the pump and we spent some time with the AC off trying not to accelerate as we searched for the next place to fill up.

I love road trips.  I love the adventure and the scenery and the random encounters.  I love singing out loud and drinking Diet Coke.  The one thing that was missing from this road trip was Honeycomb.  On my last long American road trip, a box of Honeycomb was firmly lodged between our seats.  I think we went through 2 boxes in 8 days.  So delicious.  But we couldn't find it anywhere.  I mean, we didn't stop at any actual grocery stores.  But still.

To recharge at the end of the trip, we ate soft serve from Carvel (because the McDonald's machine was broken) and then went to the Tusyana Diner, drank wine with a screw top after fighting with the ice machine (we won), and fell asleep by 9:30.  A great day, a great drive.

Short Transition

I went to see the Paul Emannuel exhibit "Transitions" at the Smithsonian African Art Museum today.  I'd never been to the African Art Museum- it's right next to the Castle.  

Paul Emannuel is a well known artist in South Africa and his art focuses primarily on the lives of white South African boys post-apartheid.  The main event of this exhibit was a 14-minute movie centered around new recruits of the army getting their heads shaved.  The movie switched from up close shots of boys preparing for the first buzz of the razor to rows of white shirts drying in the wind to fields of grain.  The boys faces were the best- trying to be brave and clearly biting their lower lips.  But, as soon as the hair cut was over they looked proud.  It was a ritual that was clearly institutionalized but also intimate.

The exhibit also featured 4 examples of Emannuel's photorealist work- Art that looks like a photograph but is actually a sketch.  They illustrated moments of transitions- the crown being placed on a new king's head, a jacket being put on at the end of the day, a baby unswaddled.

I enjoyed the exhibit but I wish there had been more to see.

The next exhibit I saw was called "Artful Animals."  It was examples of African art where the norm is to combine multiple animals in one piece to exhibit different traits (strength, compassion, knowledge).  I realized as I started to read the panels that I may not have been the target audience for the exhibit: "An antelope can jump 9 feet in the air.  How about you?"; "A snake can shed its skin.  Can you?"  Obvi.  But I did learn that elephants are right or left tusked and that hornbills can make a sound like a growling leopard.  Also, hornbills are lucky so I think I might have a new favorite animal.  

"I Was Going Really Fast and Then I Fell on My Face"

The title of this post is my six-year-old self's account of what had brought me to the Ski Patrol's Clinic at Doe Mountain.  It is also an accurate description of what happened to me on the Party Bus last Saturday except I wasn't going really fast.  

Let me start with a word about the Party Bus- there were seats around the outside of the bus and a great mix of songs and strobe lights.  Our driver stopped at the main attraction monuments in D.C. (Lincoln!).  I finally had the chance to see Jefferson.  We'd hop off the bus and taken pictures. Then we'd hop back on and party to our next stop.  The driver was quite patient.

One of our hop-offs was at the Washington Monument.  We saw a hill.  I was challenged to a race to the top of said hill.  I accepted and took two steps.  Then I fell on my face. As soon as I hit the incline I went down.  Luckily, I fell with equal weight on all parts of my body so I was not injured. And that is how I became the talk of the Party Bus.

I'd recommend rounding up a group and renting a party bus.  You need a big group or a rich patron to make it affordable but it's a wonderful time.  Just be careful on the hills.

Feeling Kinda Shady, Kinda Awesome

The Woodrow Wilson House- a presidential museum in D.C. as its name might suggest- put together a walking tour of Embassy Row.  You can print out the map from their website and then use your cell phone to access each stop.  Cokie Roberts narrates the tour.  How great. How dorky and wonderfully D.C.  I made it through stops 1-24 today.  Stop #1 is Dupont Circle then you continue northwest on Massachusetts Ave- Embassy Row.

Most of the embassies were owned by rich D.C. movers and shakers in advance of the Great Depression.  Starting around 1930, the houses were sold off one by one to various foreign governments.  The result, Embassy Row.  At the close of Cokie's commentary on the architecture (Beaux Art!) and former owners, a spokesperson from each embassy would come and say "Hello" and plug their country.  Luxembourg and Egypt chose not to participate I suppose.  The wife of the Turkish Ambassador chimed in which I thought was lovely.  

It's a fun walk that includes embassies, museums, statutes, and traffic circles.  It did feel a little shady to be standing alone in front of the embassies with my phone up to my ear.  It could be that I got a couple of looks or it could be that I'm paranoid.  That being said, I plan to go back and do Part 2.  So far, the Croatian Embassy is my favorite.

How to Tell If You're Good at Golf

I had a flat tire last night so we made dinner at my apartment- fajitas.  A classic.  Today I called AAA.  The truck arrived within 20 minutes and Juan let me know that my tire was fine, just fine. It just needed a whole lot of air and a patch.  He said he would direct me to a gas station down the road.  I called my dad to let him know I was following him to a gas station down the street.  Just in case.

This post is really just meant to praise the Shell Gas Station on Lee Highway just after the entrance to Route 66.  Martin, the Manager, saw my golf clubs when I took them out of the trunk (turned out my tire wasn't fine, just fine.  Pedro put on the spare and made me promise twice that I would not put it back on my car before letting me keep the tire).  

Martin asked me if I was good at golf.  I said, "No."  He said, "That's how you know you're good at golf!  You said you're bad."  So, I said, "In that case, I'm awesome."  He laughed and shook his head.  He said, "One day I will see you on TV and then you will come back here and we will take a picture with you and put it on our wall.  I'll say I knew you were great at golf."  I promised him that I would return.  I wouldn't forget the quick, entertaining, and nice employees of the Shell station.  The tire change cost $20.  I need to seek out more random, wonderful encounters.

I Stayed Through the Closing Credits

I went to see Exit Through the Gift Shop at my favorite movie theater (which I can easily run/walk to in 45 minutes sporting a great backpack from mine brother).  It was just great.  I'm not sure at what point the joke was on me, but I didn't care- the one liners from the characters are worth the price of admission.  I also liked the footage of street artists in action.  The conceit of the film is that a crazy Frenchman named Thierry Guetta starts filming street artists (his cousin introduces him to the scene) and Thierry himself ends up putting on his own show "Life is Beautiful."  It's a Banksy film and Bansky does appear hooded and with his voice disguised.  It's unclear whether any part of the film is actual documentary or if it's all performance art with each moviegoer playing the role of the art collector duped into paying $70,000 for a silkscreen (or at least $10 for a ticket).  I hope that the first half of the film is real and that the joke isn't entirely on Thierry, who looks like Ron Jeremy with muttonchops and endless enthusiasm.  

Some Day I'll go to Jazz in the Sculpture Garden

I haven't yet attended jazz in the Sculpture Garden- a free event every Friday starting Memorial Day weekend and running through the summer.  But I hope to get a change to go this summer. The trouble so far this season is the thunderstorms.  I have faith that the humidity will stick around till 8:00pm some Friday and I'll sit in a blanket and listen to jazz.

Yesterday I wandered around the Sculpture Garden.  I'd seen most of the sculptures before but it's a lovely walk around a sandy, dirty path.  There was an incredible and whimsical sculpture of a tree made of stainless steel and concrete by Roxy Pain that kept my full attention- it looked like a real trees, irregular bumps and all.  I also liked the humongous typewriter eraser by Claes Olderburg and Cooseje Can Bruggen.  I imagine graduate students used to dream of something like it running them down as they approached their thesis deadline.  There were multiple groups of students enjoying lunch, sitting on the oversized granite chairs and fighting to find a place in the shade.

After checking out the sculptures, I took a seat on one of the many benches surrounding the fountain in the middle of the garden and watched the tourists, happy that I didn't have 5 more museums and a tour of the Capital on my itinerary for the afternoon.

You'll Learn More from Chester Dale

This was the response from the wonderfully dimpled old man who was volunteering at the National Gallery of Art when I asked him where I could find Allen Ginsberg's photos- The Beat Generation.  He didn't say "Young lady" but he did look concerned for my artistic education and priorities.  Little did he know that I have an insider at the Philadelphia Art Museum who knows from modernism.  

After seeing the photographers, I can't disagree with the disapproving volunteer, but I think The Beat Generation was fun.  I forget until I see photographs again how much I enjoy just looking at them.  Especially pictures of people.  Ginsberg's pictures from from two periods- one set from the 1950s-early 1960s and another from the 1980s-early 1990s.  Upon rediscovering the first set of pictures 30 years later, Ginsberg added captions to them (handwritten and a bit difficult to read).  The photos of the young Beat poets show them to be small in frame, sleepy, and often in love.  One picture's caption includes: "Neal Cassady and his love of that year."  It is shocking to see Jack Kerouac in early photos and then 30 years later- defiance and strength becomes grumpiness and slouched shoulders.  The photographs take up 3 galleries and each room contains pictures from a single period.  Instead of making a circle of each room and then moving on, I decided to walk along the outside wall making one large circumference.  This meant that I started with the young Beat Poets, saw them aged, and ended up with them young again.  I'd recommend it as one part of a trip to the National Gallery of Art.

Also, did you know Beat is an abbreviation for Beatnik?  Go figure.

Retreat is not Defeat

I started back up with Rosetta Stone yesterday after a 7 month hiatus.  There was no one reason for my retreat- I got a job that required more mental energy, started having company for dinner more often, and suddenly had TV with cable.  But I do want to learn Spanish and so I returned to Rosetta Stone.  It's fun.  You wear a headset with a little microphone and when you say something right you are rewarded with a "Ba-Ba-Baba-Ba."  When you get it wrong you get a "Buh-buh" (similar to the sound of the Blue Line).  So you can now imagine me in my empty apartment mid-day talking to my computer in painfully accented Spanish.  "La nina lee."

The judge who determines whether my pronunciation passes muster seems a bit unreliable. He/She or the Panel allows me to get away with saying "periodico" and then "buh-buhs" me over and over when I try to say "hola."  In response, I try different voices and paces to try to win the judges over so that I can move onto the grammar exercise.

I hope to stick with Rosetta Stone and keep getting slowly better at Spanish.  I'll keep you posted.  Adios!

 

The 70's Brunch

We went to brunch at the Kennedy Center on Saturday.  It was a hot and lovely day.  We found a perfect parking spot and entered through the Hall of Nations.  We went up one level to the restaurant.  We were seated in a circular room with '70s decor- yellow and brown.  And the chairs- fantastic chairs- brown with oversized seats and padded armrests.  There was a keyboard player who occasionally serenaded us.

A glass of champagne- or a mimosa if you're into that kind of thing- is included in the brunch.  The buffet is laid out in the industrial kitchen behind a panel.  I felt like I was walking the wrong way but I was encouraged to persevere.  There were oysters, shrimp, crab legs, all sorts of rolls, ginger carrots, cheese & crackers, bacon & potatoes.  It was a lovely spread.  There is also a dessert bar with cheesecake balls, a monster creme brulee (I've had better in Boston), and mini cupcakes.  

The people watching was as good as you'd expect- all sorts of folks, all sorts of ages.  The couple sitting next to us was well into their 80s and he would cup his ear with his right hand to try to catch all of her comments.  There were blissed out kids around the dessert bar. 

I recommend this brunch next time the Living Social Deal comes around- our waiter spotted us as Living Social-ers right away.  After brunch we walked around and enjoyed the view.  You can't see the Capital from the roof but you can see Lincoln, Washington, and the poor rowers on the Potomac.  

Oh Hello Phillips Collection

I decided to check out the Phillips Collection at 21st and Q just because it's close to Dupont Circle and I wanted to also see Adams Morning during the day after going to a museum.  The neighborhoods are close to each other and I've just recently learned how to navigate between them- as long as I stay on Columbia.

I should've known that greatness was in store when the nice woman behind the desk told me that the museum was donation-only because they are between exhibits.  The Phillips Collection was acting like a Smithsonian and I was happy to play along.  

I turned an unassuming corner to see a Van Gogh, Monet, Cezane, and then taking up an entire wall was Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party.  They put a long, cushioned bench in front of the painting so you can sit and analyze all of the faces and conversations.

There is also a Rothko Room- only 8 people allowed in at a time to preserve the atmosphere.  I had never seen a Rothko before and it was wonderful to see 4 in person.  An artist named Heuser created a response to Rothko called "Pulse"- the 3-D paper images were hung along the stairwell.

My favorite painting was by Marcoussis- Painting #17 on Glass.  I also stood in front of Canyon by Frankenthaler for a long time.  Despite that fact that I was alone in the room with one of the Phillips Collection's many attendants.  That was the one downside of the collection- There were multiple attendants in every room.  All wearing black flats and stylish outfits with a hint of hipster.  I definitely felt watched.  And more than one judgy look was registered in response to a museum goers commentary.  But it was overwhelmingly worth it to see such a wonderful collection.  

I Assume You're all Good Eaters

I went to NYC with my family.  We went on a Pizza Walking Tour.  I love walking tours.  I walked around Europe with mine sister and I am filled with excitement with the week of free walking tours in D.C. comes around.  I have been given walking tours twice as presents.  I collect them.

I do not eat pizza.  I eat a bit of wheat but no cheese.  I do like tomato sauce.  So, the nice tour guide's assumption was wrong.  But mine family helped me out by eating extra pizza and stealthily passing the fresh, unsalted mozzarella cheese along to the next person.  Not eating pizza did not take away from the tour.  I had the chance to walk around Little Italy and the surrounding blocks on a beautiful NYC days.  I saw where they still build the pizza ovens sent around the world.  It was a great opportunity for people watching.  The tour guide talked some history which was awesome.  She was wearing a polka dot dress and transitions lenses.

I will say that I could not compete with the enthusiasm of some of my fellow walkers.  They gasped.  They laughed aloud and exclaimed "Really?"  They were overcome by joy from the tomatoes.  One of them said "Holy Cow" more than once.

As our tour finished, we noticed other groups of food walking tours around us.  I will definitely look into doing another one with my family- it was a great way to spend time together. Although we may never be able to find a walking tour where all of us want to eat what is offered.  

Who Says I Like Right Angles?

I went to the National Museum of the National Indian on a rainy Monday morning.  That L'Enfant Plaza station gets me every time, but eventually I made it to the front entrance.  

I went there specifically to see Brian Jungen's Strange Comfort Exhibit.  He turns consumer objects- golf bags, plastic chairs, Air Jordans- into pieces that look like Native American art. The golf bags become totem poles.  The Air Jordans become masks.  They become expensive and useless and beautiful.  I stood looking at each piece for longer than I expected.

I also saw the Indi(visible)- a small exhibition on African-Native Americans.  I think that term is contested.  It illustrated, through family pictures, maps, and sketches, the intermarriage of Africans and Native Americans during the pre-colonial period.  There was a video with African-Natives speaking about how they try inhabit both identities.  Publicly, they tend only to be identified as African-Americans.  I had never heard of African-Native Americans but, of course, it makes sense.  It made me think of an exhibit I saw at the Philadelphia Art Museum on early Spanish settlers in the Americas- they intermarried without much controversy with the Native population.  All sorts of families emerged.

I enjoyed the museum and the architecture is stunning.  And no right angles which gives me an excuse to use my first Ani quote.

You never want to be the guy marching into Russia

I wanted to see Babies since I saw the preview on Jezebel.  I find babies entertaining that's all. Plus I'm inclined to like documentaries.  So I had to find a movie theater in D.C. that was screening the film.  That search took me to Landmark E St Cinema on Saturday.

The movie, well I left about 10 minutes early because it was a beautiful day outside and I was kind of bored.  But the theater was a wonderful find.  They show movies I thought I'd have to wait to see till I visit NYC.  They sell wine and beer.

My fellow moviegoers were old and friendly.  One particular curmudgeon was conversing loudly with the man who took our tickets.  He was talking WWII strategy and suggesting alternate strategies that could have changed history.  He wondered if Hitler should have marched toward Moscow sooner.  The ticket guy responded: "You never want to be the guy marching into Russia." All of us seated on the bench, waiting to be seated, nodded solemnly.  You can't argue with that.  

George Washington Slept Here

The Mount Vernon Spring Wine Festival was held this Saturday and of course I was there. History and wine?  Be still my heart.  Mount Vernon is about 30 minutes from D.C., an easy drive on Route 1 and the grounds are stunning.  The house is right on the water and the weather was just right.  

17 Virginia wineries were set up under a bright blue tent.  Each gave samples of multiple wines and there was popcorn for sale.  Also, bread, cheese, and salami.  The wine was okay.  We found a couple of standouts- Rockbridge and Unicorn Winery.  Mostly they are standouts because we liked the people who were pouring our wine.  When wine tasting, I tend to choose buy wine based on the people who are selling them rather than the taste of the wine.  This tactic has some limits, but I'm not that picky (or my palate is not well developed).  I just appreciate nice people.

The organizers of the event did a good job of limiting tickets so there wasn't too much of a wait to try different wines.  But you should be prepared to be pushed around by all sorts of white people.  It was not dissimilar to the Orange line in Virginia at rush hour.

After we tried some wines, George and Martha Washington showed up!  Joy!  We were sitting on the porch, just to their right.  We raised our glasses in a toast (Huzzah!).  They were willing to pose for some "portraits" and I wish that I had waited in line to get a picture with my birthday buddy.

We took a tour of the mansion after dinner.  The living room was painted green- a sign of wealth- and the whole home was stunning.  We saw the kitchen with stuffed turkeys and George Washington's office.  Then we saw the actual room where he died.  The tour was narrated by charming folks in historic garb.  Someday I will be one of them.

If this event sounds like something you'd like to do, don't worry.  You don't have to wait till next Spring.  They are holding the event again in October.  Just remember to bring a blanket or a crazy creek to sit and enjoy the view. 

That's Bull(s)

Ceiba is located just one block from Metro Center and they have a $5 cocktail all night- a different one for each day of the week.  I was there on a Thursday so we drank sangria and dark and stormys.  I'd go back on a Friday to try the house margarita.  The bartender didn't tell me about this deal and it isn't listed on the menu (it is highlighted on the menu posted outside) so just a heads up.  I was saved from paying for a more expensive drink by a friend who arrived just in time.  The bartender said "Go Pennsylvania!" when he saw my license so no hard feelings.

Ceiba also has hooks beneath its bar for your bag which I love.  Chef Geoff's has this feature as well and it's just so convenient.  Your drink will come with a little plastic bull hanging off its side so you can add to your herd throughout the evening.  The sangria (we had white) was good and I was told that the dark and stormy was strong (oh hello rum).  During my walk to and from the bar, I saw the waiters and diners carrying what looked like delicious food which we didn't stay to sample.

It was a good happy hour spot for when you want to hear the people next to you and have a place to sit.  Plus they have hooks!  See you there next Friday?

The Art of Gaman

Yesterday I went to the Art of Gaman exhibit at the Renwick Gallery, one of the Smithsonians. The art was all created by those interned in American camps during WWI because of they were of Japanese origin (2/3 of the 120,000 were born in the U.S.)  

The boys interned in the camps were still drafted by the U.S. army.  Their mothers would create vests that included 1,000 knots.  Each knot was tied by a well-wisher in the community- each a promise that the boy would be remembered while he was gone, a hope he would return, and another set of fingers-crossed.  The one in the gallery had a ferocious tiger on the back.  It was worn by a boy serving in Italy. 

The art on display was made of toothpicks, firewood, and pipe cleaners formed into flowers stored under industrial sized empty mayo jars.  They drew mountains, barracks, and a man being shot.

I highly recommend this exhibit- it will take you only 20 minutes to see it all and it is free.  All you have to do is let the friendly guard search your bag.  I didn't have a chance to see the rest of the gallery but I'd go back.  It's location on 17th and Pennsylvania makes for great people watching and easy access.  Just remember- when you walk down Pennsylvania to see the White House, you'll be looking at the back of Obama's house.

The Old Yoga Try

Yoga is very intimidating to me.  Which is not surprising because most things are.  Grocery shopping is not.  Driving is not.  Directions and bicycling are.  So it goes.

Coming to enjoy yoga is one of my goals for this time off.  Mine sister is great at yoga and enjoys it and I trust her.  So I went to Yoga District for Flow Yoga 1.  I was immediately made more comfortable by the fact that my fellow posers wore unis with t-shirts and sweatpants with MINNESOTA on the back.  We smiled at each other.

Our teacher had hearing loss and read lips.  She spoke about her grandmother.  One day her grandmother accidentally put laundry detergent in the dishwasher and foam filled the kitchen.  But the dishes smelled wonderful.  This was part of a lesson on absentmindedness and the importance of laughing at yourself.  She was great and didn't do too much readjusting.

I enjoyed the class and I'll go back.  It was hard for me but also calming.  We did legs up the wall which is a yoga pose that I have already incorporated into my every day life (thanks to mine sister).  It was physical therapy for my shoulder and a reminder that I should do physical therapy for my shoulder.  

Just for Fun

Last Friday was my last day of work at a wonderful job.  I had about 107 days- give or take- until the start of law school orientation.  I don't have plans but I do have goals.  To go to yoga, to take golf lessons, to cook, and to write.  Mostly I want to hang out with the people I love and wander around.  Also, I'm a huge fan of D.C. and I want to take advantage of all of the (free!) things this town has to offer.  Here I will talk about what I've seen and what I thought of it.  If I figure out how to add pictures, I will.  I'm open to any ideas about what to do next.