Tomorrow is likely to be my last first day of school ever. That seems pretty crazy to me. 19th grade, here I come. It's been a long time since kindergarten's first day. Actually, there I started two weeks late because I had the chicken pox (now a cured disease, come on!) and really did not want to go to school on the first day. I was so afraid. Now I still don't want to go, but I am anything but afraid. Honestly, I am bored. It's a grind, and I am looking forward to a new routine. But I am also somewhat excited. First year of law school was...awful. Second year was...moderately bad. This year I do not have high expectations and I certainly am not going to fall in love with my school, but I know the drill and I feel like have mastered it to some extent. There is some security in the third year. I can't say I'm bored yet ("the third year they bore you to death"), but just you wait. So here's to beginnings and ends.
It is good to be back in DC. I was away longer than I wanted to be. JetBlue was nice and let me get back before Hurricane Irene struck. I mean "struck." The "hurricane" was just a lot of rain and more wind than we are used to. I think some leaves were affected the most. Maybe a couple of magazine racks. I learned to play Settler of Catan with Kerry, Alena, and Ed. Then we pretended that the weather was bad by turning out the lights. We lit candles because otherwise they just seemed like a waste. "Mmm hmm, there's gonna be weather." Maybe not as much as anticipated here. But it didn't stop a Trader Joe's mob on Saturday morning apparently. I got there later in the morning mostly because I needed to buy food, having not been here for a couple of weeks. The store was an interesting me of 1) regular shoppers, like me, 2) people freaking out and buying nonperishable food and looking like maniacs, and 3) people stocking up on alcohol. The wine section was easily getting emptied the quickest. I approved.
Ok, back to school for a second. Being smart, I still haven't bought two of my textbooks. It doesn't help that one casts $160 and there are no used versions because it's a new edition. What a pain in the butt. What do I want more, my Evidence textbook (to be used during my 8:50 am class three times per week) or a nice, new futon? Happily, the choice is not plainly one or another, but you see where I'm going with this. That's just...more money than I want to pay for this crap.
Other classes I am taking: Professional Responsibility (lawyer ethics - they do teach us ethics!), Antitrust (topical), and Public Interest Lawyering (co-requisite for my internship. I will pass/fail this class and nearly fail it). This is mostly a semester of fulfilling requirements. Next semester I will live it up.
I get The Great Roommate Change of '11 this week. It should be interesting. Soon a new soul (my friend Ryan) will share the pain of my neighbor's incessant coughing. Some night I'm just going to call an ambulance for my neighbor. Maybe the police will show up with the ambulance. I wouldn't be shocked if they came across a decent amount of illegal substances (which are probably the reason that he coughs so damn much. Stop smoking and shut the hell up!). But I am excited to live with Ryan. I have a feeling that this could decrease my productivity at home a good deal. And maybe increase me in-house beer consumption. Uh oh. Whatever, it's 3L, right?
Hurricane playlist mandatory songs:
Bob Dylan - Hurricane (duh!)
Bob Dylan - Blowin' In The Wind
The Doors - Riders on the Storm
The Scorpions - Rock You Like A Hurricane
Blind Melon - No Rain
The Little League World Series just wrapped up. The Yankees tried to enter the tournament just to stroke their ego, but were rejected. No beating up on 12-year olds for you!
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Get the Suit that Fits
To prepare for work this summer, I went outlet shopping with Enoch and Reza all the way out in Leesburg. Where? I don't know, I hadn't been either, but it was pretty nice. I got a few things: a couple of shirts, socks, a spatula. But the big purchase was a suit at the Joseph A Bank outlet. I had my doubts, but the fast-talking salesman assured me the suit would be easily tailored to fit me. I forgot a cardinal rule: never trust the fast-talking salesman. Upon returning to DC, I took my newly purchased suit to my local Joseph A Bank for tailoring. The tailor and the salesman took one look at it on me and pronounced it the wrong size. For a minute or two I was fairly unhappy - I was either going to have to work something out with the tailor or I was going to have to go all the way back to Leesburg (where?) to return it. I was mentally trending towards the latter option when the salesman thrust a correctly sized suit in my direction and told me to put it on. I did and expressed my regret over owning the wrong size when the salesman said he was just going to "exchange" the suits. There was roughly a $300 price difference between the purchased suit and the suit that was my actual size. But this did not stop the (slow-talking?) salesman - he was happy to help me out by "exchanging" suits while bemoaning my initial incorrectly-sized one. He did everything but admonish the first salesman. To this second salesman, my hat is off. I certainly thank him and I put in a good word for Joseph A Bank (which may be slowly going out of business), although not for its outlet.
I do not put in a good word for Calvin Klein's "Body" line of dress pants. Reza described the pair I tried on as looking more like tights. What's your deal Calvin? Are you designing clothing for starving Russian peasants? Most normal shaped men, plus me, cannot fit into those without looking foolish.
Another negative from the trip. At the Levi outlet, I was unable to continue my shopping due to the multitude of foreigners with vastly different conceptions of personal space. A man literally stepped on me without noticing while trying to buy jeans. How do you not notice that? How can you be so self-centered that you refuse to see or in this case feel other people around you? Sometimes I wish I had an airhorn to announce my presence. Or a personal lighthouse. Ships would never crash on me that way. How's that for a superpower!?
I went to the Nats game tonight. In an epic battle between two bitter rivals, the Washington Nationals shocked the Pittsburgh Pirates with a come from behind victory. There was plentiful sarcasm.
I do not put in a good word for Calvin Klein's "Body" line of dress pants. Reza described the pair I tried on as looking more like tights. What's your deal Calvin? Are you designing clothing for starving Russian peasants? Most normal shaped men, plus me, cannot fit into those without looking foolish.
Another negative from the trip. At the Levi outlet, I was unable to continue my shopping due to the multitude of foreigners with vastly different conceptions of personal space. A man literally stepped on me without noticing while trying to buy jeans. How do you not notice that? How can you be so self-centered that you refuse to see or in this case feel other people around you? Sometimes I wish I had an airhorn to announce my presence. Or a personal lighthouse. Ships would never crash on me that way. How's that for a superpower!?
I went to the Nats game tonight. In an epic battle between two bitter rivals, the Washington Nationals shocked the Pittsburgh Pirates with a come from behind victory. There was plentiful sarcasm.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
"O'er the ramparts we watched" - Remember?
And so comes and goes another Super Bowl. I did not care particularly about the outcome, although my preferred team did end up on top. There was some good football I got to watch, and some commercials I got to critique. But for me the highlight of the broadcast came before the first kickoff when Christina Aguilera fumbled the words to the National Anthem. That seems like a fairly large gaffe. Some of the commentary is saying, "Well at least she was actually singing." I think it is a sad day when "actually singing" is something to be commended rather than something to be expected. Her lyrical lapse and her poor vocal performance were poor, to say the least.
Another great part of the Super Bowl was the shot of Cameron Diaz feeding Alex Rodriguez in the stands. This will not be forgotten come the baseball season.
For Jason and Gavi's Super Bowl party I made my own buffalo sauce and used it to make buffalo quesadillas. They were pretty good, but I made an abundance of them and am now the proud owner of about a pound of them. I guess I will bring them to school tomorrow to see if anyone wants them? Should that fail, do you think homeless people like buffalo quesadillas?
According to the Chicago Manual of Style it is proper in all settings, formal and informal, to use only one space after a period at the end of a sentence. I was always taught two, but Rule 6.7 of the Manual corrected me: "In typeset matter, one space, not two, should be used between two sentences—whether the first ends in a period, a question mark, an exclamation point, or a closing quotation mark or parenthesis."
Also, the Chicago Manual of Style has free 30 day trial subscriptions online. Just in case anyone was interested.
Facebook Scrabble has been frustrating of late. I am gradually coming to loath the letters "C," "I," and "K." Together they spell ick, which is generally what I think when I have too many of them.
Another great part of the Super Bowl was the shot of Cameron Diaz feeding Alex Rodriguez in the stands. This will not be forgotten come the baseball season.
For Jason and Gavi's Super Bowl party I made my own buffalo sauce and used it to make buffalo quesadillas. They were pretty good, but I made an abundance of them and am now the proud owner of about a pound of them. I guess I will bring them to school tomorrow to see if anyone wants them? Should that fail, do you think homeless people like buffalo quesadillas?
According to the Chicago Manual of Style it is proper in all settings, formal and informal, to use only one space after a period at the end of a sentence. I was always taught two, but Rule 6.7 of the Manual corrected me: "In typeset matter, one space, not two, should be used between two sentences—whether the first ends in a period, a question mark, an exclamation point, or a closing quotation mark or parenthesis."
Also, the Chicago Manual of Style has free 30 day trial subscriptions online. Just in case anyone was interested.
Facebook Scrabble has been frustrating of late. I am gradually coming to loath the letters "C," "I," and "K." Together they spell ick, which is generally what I think when I have too many of them.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Relief
I really have been meaning to update more frequently, but sometimes there just are not enough hours in the day. Though too many hours at night. Last night I dreamed that I was asleep when two people broke into my apartment through the balcony. It turned out they were lawyers and I talked and ate with them rather than reacting as if they were normal burglars. Then I woke up in a panic. Why? I don't know. But I hate burglars. It's a semi-irrational fear of mine, next to snakes and sharks. At least Indiana Jones has my back regarding the snakes.
The largest stress of this year so far in law school is mercifully behind me. I am overjoyed and relieved. A huge weight has been lifted. I wish everyone else the best of luck. Now all I have to do is choose a note topic. I've discovered that some other jerks did what I wanted to do first. Way to go, people who preempted me. And I met with a professor who pretty much shot down my two other ideas. So that was a fun little meeting where I am pretty sure I came off as hugely cynical and anti-human rights. I'd call that a success and look forward to my grade at the end of the semester.
Yesterday during my Con Law class there was a sorority event going on outside in the quad. Apparently the event was "Yell for Two Hours," and was conveniently timed to coincide with my professor's lecture about Lawrence v. Texas, a case about homosexual sodomy and more generally gay rights. In the midst of the lecture and after a particularly loud cheer from the sororities outside, my professor responded by saying "That's right, go sodomy!" Now that's how you enliven a class.
Yesterday I saw a man biking home from work in a suit, with a bow tie undone hanging around his collar. I don't know why, but I thought it was hilarious. Maybe it's because I then pictured Tucker Carlson on a racing bike. I bet he wears a bow tie at all times: cooking, swimming, and moonwalking.
Come on Fhqwhgads. Everybody to the limit.
Tonight I went to the Nationals/Phillies game. The Nationals lost, don't worry. It was the last home game of the season, and the foresight that I will miss baseball greatly in the off season spurred my decision. Also, they really want people to come to the ballpark. They were doing half price student tickets, they gave out free ski hats to the first 20,000 people, they had a fireworks show, and they handed out lots of other paraphernalia from the field which I did not get thrown to me because I am not a seven year old child. It was nice; Nationals Park is a fun place. But my real takeaway from the game was this: Philadelphia fans are awful. They are merciless in the face of pathetic opposition. They are boisterous, inappropriately drunk in a bad way, and bordering on cold-hearted. When you are winning by 6 runs in the bottom of the ninth and the home town fans are applauding a local player who had a great year and might not be back next year (Adam Dunn), it really is not necessary to boo the home town fans. That's just poor sportsmanship. And the $3 cap I bought outside the stadium has bad craftsmanship - shockingly.
I like Stevie Wonder a lot, but some of his songs surprise me with how bad they are.
The largest stress of this year so far in law school is mercifully behind me. I am overjoyed and relieved. A huge weight has been lifted. I wish everyone else the best of luck. Now all I have to do is choose a note topic. I've discovered that some other jerks did what I wanted to do first. Way to go, people who preempted me. And I met with a professor who pretty much shot down my two other ideas. So that was a fun little meeting where I am pretty sure I came off as hugely cynical and anti-human rights. I'd call that a success and look forward to my grade at the end of the semester.
Yesterday during my Con Law class there was a sorority event going on outside in the quad. Apparently the event was "Yell for Two Hours," and was conveniently timed to coincide with my professor's lecture about Lawrence v. Texas, a case about homosexual sodomy and more generally gay rights. In the midst of the lecture and after a particularly loud cheer from the sororities outside, my professor responded by saying "That's right, go sodomy!" Now that's how you enliven a class.
Yesterday I saw a man biking home from work in a suit, with a bow tie undone hanging around his collar. I don't know why, but I thought it was hilarious. Maybe it's because I then pictured Tucker Carlson on a racing bike. I bet he wears a bow tie at all times: cooking, swimming, and moonwalking.
Come on Fhqwhgads. Everybody to the limit.
Tonight I went to the Nationals/Phillies game. The Nationals lost, don't worry. It was the last home game of the season, and the foresight that I will miss baseball greatly in the off season spurred my decision. Also, they really want people to come to the ballpark. They were doing half price student tickets, they gave out free ski hats to the first 20,000 people, they had a fireworks show, and they handed out lots of other paraphernalia from the field which I did not get thrown to me because I am not a seven year old child. It was nice; Nationals Park is a fun place. But my real takeaway from the game was this: Philadelphia fans are awful. They are merciless in the face of pathetic opposition. They are boisterous, inappropriately drunk in a bad way, and bordering on cold-hearted. When you are winning by 6 runs in the bottom of the ninth and the home town fans are applauding a local player who had a great year and might not be back next year (Adam Dunn), it really is not necessary to boo the home town fans. That's just poor sportsmanship. And the $3 cap I bought outside the stadium has bad craftsmanship - shockingly.
I like Stevie Wonder a lot, but some of his songs surprise me with how bad they are.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Icing...Really?
So first off, icing - a new sort of drinking game involving Smirnoff Ice whereby if someone is handed a Smirnoff Ice they have to get down on one knee and chug it. The only way to block being iced is by carrying your own Ice. These rules apply anywhere, anytime. What is going on here? If you need references, I will refer you to http://brosicingbros.com/ and also the New York Times http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/09/business/media/09adco.html?scp=1&sq=icing&st=cse
What exactly is wrong with people? I'm fine drinking games like beirut and kings I suppose, but forcing someone to chug a disgusting, sugary Smirnoff Ice in inappropriate places crosses a line. I mean, it's hilarious looking at pictures of people who are silly enough to participate, but if someone "iced" me I would probably laugh in their face. They went and bought Smirnoff Ice. I bet you felt like a real man picking out that pomegranate fusion flavored one.
Work is alright. I've spent a lot of time reading about subjects in which I have less than no previous experience or knowledge. I finally got my first couple of assignments this afternoon. At 4. Needless to say they will be picked up tomorrow. Everyone seems nice...the internet there is monitored, so I guess everyone has to be nice. Except this one woman who I have already been warned to disregard if she gives me tasks. Apparently the office "unanimously thinks" she sucks. Good note: do not become friends with her.
One of the secretaries is the loudest woman on the planet...unintentionally. She shuffles her feet when she walks and her breathing is as loud as Darth Vader's. Every time she walks by my door I think she is having a seizure and I check to make sure she's alright. This inadvertent reaction makes me unfortunately monitor how often she goes to the bathroom, to get water, etc. and let me tell you, it does not seem like she spends a lot of time at her desk. I want to buy her an inhaler.
9-5 will take some getting used to. Especially when it is for no pay.
Is there a throne on Mt. Olympus vacant for Stephen Strasburg? Or do we have to build a new one before his arrival?
What exactly is wrong with people? I'm fine drinking games like beirut and kings I suppose, but forcing someone to chug a disgusting, sugary Smirnoff Ice in inappropriate places crosses a line. I mean, it's hilarious looking at pictures of people who are silly enough to participate, but if someone "iced" me I would probably laugh in their face. They went and bought Smirnoff Ice. I bet you felt like a real man picking out that pomegranate fusion flavored one.
Work is alright. I've spent a lot of time reading about subjects in which I have less than no previous experience or knowledge. I finally got my first couple of assignments this afternoon. At 4. Needless to say they will be picked up tomorrow. Everyone seems nice...the internet there is monitored, so I guess everyone has to be nice. Except this one woman who I have already been warned to disregard if she gives me tasks. Apparently the office "unanimously thinks" she sucks. Good note: do not become friends with her.
One of the secretaries is the loudest woman on the planet...unintentionally. She shuffles her feet when she walks and her breathing is as loud as Darth Vader's. Every time she walks by my door I think she is having a seizure and I check to make sure she's alright. This inadvertent reaction makes me unfortunately monitor how often she goes to the bathroom, to get water, etc. and let me tell you, it does not seem like she spends a lot of time at her desk. I want to buy her an inhaler.
9-5 will take some getting used to. Especially when it is for no pay.
Is there a throne on Mt. Olympus vacant for Stephen Strasburg? Or do we have to build a new one before his arrival?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Now I Know What The Midwest Is
Chicago entailed seeing friends, activities (mostly around Wrigleyville for some reason), and tons of eating. I was there from Wednesday night to Sunday morning. In that time I saw 3 comedy shows, 2 Cubs games, attended 1 beach, and ate 3 of the most heart-attack causing foods known to man. Let's see here...this is probably going to be in slightly random order as I recall it.
The comedy shows were all good. Ranging from plain good to incredibly good. TJ and Dave was some of the best improv I've ever seen. Crisis, a live musical game show was interesting to say the least. Matt Hope was involved with it, so you know it was lovable (also, Happy Birthday Matt Hope!). After Crisis, we went to a bar. I talked with what I thought was a friend of Matt's, which now turns out to be more like some girl Matt knows and isn't sure he likes. That's fine, because I'm not sure I like her very much either. I told her I was from Boston and she told me that she was thinking about moving to Boston, but that they didn't have a good theater scene. Alright...I mean, I guess. I think Boston has a pretty decent theater scene, including the A.R.T. but whatever I guess. I said as much to her, and she started listing what she said were the best cities for theater, "Chicago, Montreal, Seattle, some city in Georgia - not Atlanta but what's it called..." Alright then, I'm not an expert in the field, but I felt obliged to add New York into the mix; I'm pretty sure they have a decent theater scene. Broadway, you might have heard of it? Her response was "I mean, I guess, but they don't debut a lot of things in New York so I dunno." And that was the moment I stopped trusting anything she said. I pointed out to her that they debut lots of theater in New York, and that in addition to Broadway there is off-Broadway theater going on. She dismissed this skeptically. Alright then she can go be Chicago-centric if she wants. And I'm not ripping on Chicago, but I'm pretty sure if you asked just about anyone what the premier city for theater is in the country they would say New York. You're done. (Later she proceeded to hate on Carlsberg, which is excellent beer, but this only solidified my certainty that she had no idea what she was talking about - yes I'm well aware that taste is a highly personalized thing.)
The first Cubs game was relatively uneventful. No joke, it was 1-0. But Wrigley field was pretty exciting to visit. It is a classic ballpark. Its small and doesn't even have a jumbotron, which is an interesting choice. The second game, on Friday, was much more exciting. For starters Jonah very graciously took me because he was coincidentally in Chicago visiting family. Also, his family had box seats to the game, courtesy of Kraft Food, so the ticket, beer, food, and dessert was free. And I got to sit in a box! It was fantastic. Be jealous, it was that worth excellent. The only problem is that now other ballgames will pale in comparison with the luxury of box seats. Of course that excludes games where I get to see the Red Sox (this was a Cubs-Cardinals game). But if you ever get the chance to sit in a box I highly recommend you do it. For example if the choice is between box seats and a free Gogurt then take the seats.
Of course free beer meant free beer. And that afternoon I had to get myself home on the L train. In the face of adversity I successfully navigated the foreign Chicago public transportation system to arrive back at the apartment. I then went with Sam, Ashley, Mike, and Emily to a Boston bar to watch the Celtics beat the Magic and advance to the NBA finals. Woo! In the bar we met a woman who from New England who was there for a wedding. She was quite friendly and also quite drunk. She was also holding her four year old child quite precariously. I was nervous for his well-being. Maybe getting hammered at a bar isn't the best place to bring your small children. What do I know though, I'm not qualified to give out parenting tips. Also that night I lost track of time and food and accidentally didn't eat anything except some of Sam's nachos that night. Whoops.
Speaking of food, there are some Chicago delicacies that I should relate. Wednesday night, after TJ and Dave, I got pizza with Matt. One slice of mac n' cheese pizza and one slice of barbecue chicken bacon cheddar ranch pizza. If those sound incredibly disgusting, you are wrong. They are delicious. Additionally they were quite filling. I'd say they more than made up for the dinner I hadn't eaten before getting on the airplane.
Of course in Chicago I had to get deep dish pizza. Did that at Gino's. It was delicious, but heavy...kind of like I should have expected. It didn't sit incredibly well with Mike, but I should have expected that too. For interested parties, Mike's eating habits have not made a great improvement since his days of eating a pint of ice cream, a bag of M&M's and a can of whipped cream in one sitting.
Finally, I ate at Silver Palm and got a sandwich called the Three Little Piggies which Anthony Bourdain ate when he went there on his tv show. This Bourdain-approved sandwhich consists of double baked ham, a pork chop, and bacon topped with gruyere and a friend egg. I could feel my arteries clogging and my first heart attack impending. That was Saturday night. Sunday I literally didn't need to eat until 6 pm.
Earlier on Sunday (in between deep dish and my pig sandwich overload) Mike, Matt, Emily, and I went to a beach on the South Side of Chicago. We were literally the only white people there. Oh yeah. I think that's the first time that has ever happened to me. No, I didn't feel an overwhelming sense of alienation and role reversal that some people describe when that happens to them for the first time. I don't think I see the world through new, enlightened eyes. I did feel mildly awkward and out of place, and I feel that it was an interesting experience. It didn't help that I was wearing a yellow t-shit and boat shoes. But I am who I am, can't help it. I stuck my feet in Lake Michigan, then lay down to take a nap on my (well really Matt's) towel. I did eventually fall asleep, but I was not aided by the family right next to my head. The mother was reprimanding her son for yelling: "Jonathan! Stop yelling, the man is trying to sleep!" The only problem was that she was screaming this which didn't really help solve the noise problem. Matt Hope found this endlessly amusing and took my sunglasses to conceal his laughter. Mike threw pebbles at my head.
I had a few generalities based on my observations of Chicago.
-It is a damn attractive city; as it was explained to me - "Lots of attractive Swedish ancestors."
-No one in Chicago wears nice shoes. It is sneakers, sandals, or really whatever goes. So I guess it's attractive people in crappy shoes.
-Cubs games were aptly described as a huge beer garden where there happens to be a sporting event going on. I mean, people care about the game, but people really care about the Bud Light guy.
-Lake Michigan is not like the Atlantic. The South Side of Chicago is not like Cape Cod. I probably could have predicted this one, but now I know for certain.
The comedy shows were all good. Ranging from plain good to incredibly good. TJ and Dave was some of the best improv I've ever seen. Crisis, a live musical game show was interesting to say the least. Matt Hope was involved with it, so you know it was lovable (also, Happy Birthday Matt Hope!). After Crisis, we went to a bar. I talked with what I thought was a friend of Matt's, which now turns out to be more like some girl Matt knows and isn't sure he likes. That's fine, because I'm not sure I like her very much either. I told her I was from Boston and she told me that she was thinking about moving to Boston, but that they didn't have a good theater scene. Alright...I mean, I guess. I think Boston has a pretty decent theater scene, including the A.R.T. but whatever I guess. I said as much to her, and she started listing what she said were the best cities for theater, "Chicago, Montreal, Seattle, some city in Georgia - not Atlanta but what's it called..." Alright then, I'm not an expert in the field, but I felt obliged to add New York into the mix; I'm pretty sure they have a decent theater scene. Broadway, you might have heard of it? Her response was "I mean, I guess, but they don't debut a lot of things in New York so I dunno." And that was the moment I stopped trusting anything she said. I pointed out to her that they debut lots of theater in New York, and that in addition to Broadway there is off-Broadway theater going on. She dismissed this skeptically. Alright then she can go be Chicago-centric if she wants. And I'm not ripping on Chicago, but I'm pretty sure if you asked just about anyone what the premier city for theater is in the country they would say New York. You're done. (Later she proceeded to hate on Carlsberg, which is excellent beer, but this only solidified my certainty that she had no idea what she was talking about - yes I'm well aware that taste is a highly personalized thing.)
The first Cubs game was relatively uneventful. No joke, it was 1-0. But Wrigley field was pretty exciting to visit. It is a classic ballpark. Its small and doesn't even have a jumbotron, which is an interesting choice. The second game, on Friday, was much more exciting. For starters Jonah very graciously took me because he was coincidentally in Chicago visiting family. Also, his family had box seats to the game, courtesy of Kraft Food, so the ticket, beer, food, and dessert was free. And I got to sit in a box! It was fantastic. Be jealous, it was that worth excellent. The only problem is that now other ballgames will pale in comparison with the luxury of box seats. Of course that excludes games where I get to see the Red Sox (this was a Cubs-Cardinals game). But if you ever get the chance to sit in a box I highly recommend you do it. For example if the choice is between box seats and a free Gogurt then take the seats.
Of course free beer meant free beer. And that afternoon I had to get myself home on the L train. In the face of adversity I successfully navigated the foreign Chicago public transportation system to arrive back at the apartment. I then went with Sam, Ashley, Mike, and Emily to a Boston bar to watch the Celtics beat the Magic and advance to the NBA finals. Woo! In the bar we met a woman who from New England who was there for a wedding. She was quite friendly and also quite drunk. She was also holding her four year old child quite precariously. I was nervous for his well-being. Maybe getting hammered at a bar isn't the best place to bring your small children. What do I know though, I'm not qualified to give out parenting tips. Also that night I lost track of time and food and accidentally didn't eat anything except some of Sam's nachos that night. Whoops.
Speaking of food, there are some Chicago delicacies that I should relate. Wednesday night, after TJ and Dave, I got pizza with Matt. One slice of mac n' cheese pizza and one slice of barbecue chicken bacon cheddar ranch pizza. If those sound incredibly disgusting, you are wrong. They are delicious. Additionally they were quite filling. I'd say they more than made up for the dinner I hadn't eaten before getting on the airplane.
Of course in Chicago I had to get deep dish pizza. Did that at Gino's. It was delicious, but heavy...kind of like I should have expected. It didn't sit incredibly well with Mike, but I should have expected that too. For interested parties, Mike's eating habits have not made a great improvement since his days of eating a pint of ice cream, a bag of M&M's and a can of whipped cream in one sitting.
Finally, I ate at Silver Palm and got a sandwich called the Three Little Piggies which Anthony Bourdain ate when he went there on his tv show. This Bourdain-approved sandwhich consists of double baked ham, a pork chop, and bacon topped with gruyere and a friend egg. I could feel my arteries clogging and my first heart attack impending. That was Saturday night. Sunday I literally didn't need to eat until 6 pm.
Earlier on Sunday (in between deep dish and my pig sandwich overload) Mike, Matt, Emily, and I went to a beach on the South Side of Chicago. We were literally the only white people there. Oh yeah. I think that's the first time that has ever happened to me. No, I didn't feel an overwhelming sense of alienation and role reversal that some people describe when that happens to them for the first time. I don't think I see the world through new, enlightened eyes. I did feel mildly awkward and out of place, and I feel that it was an interesting experience. It didn't help that I was wearing a yellow t-shit and boat shoes. But I am who I am, can't help it. I stuck my feet in Lake Michigan, then lay down to take a nap on my (well really Matt's) towel. I did eventually fall asleep, but I was not aided by the family right next to my head. The mother was reprimanding her son for yelling: "Jonathan! Stop yelling, the man is trying to sleep!" The only problem was that she was screaming this which didn't really help solve the noise problem. Matt Hope found this endlessly amusing and took my sunglasses to conceal his laughter. Mike threw pebbles at my head.
I had a few generalities based on my observations of Chicago.
-It is a damn attractive city; as it was explained to me - "Lots of attractive Swedish ancestors."
-No one in Chicago wears nice shoes. It is sneakers, sandals, or really whatever goes. So I guess it's attractive people in crappy shoes.
-Cubs games were aptly described as a huge beer garden where there happens to be a sporting event going on. I mean, people care about the game, but people really care about the Bud Light guy.
-Lake Michigan is not like the Atlantic. The South Side of Chicago is not like Cape Cod. I probably could have predicted this one, but now I know for certain.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Do You Know What the Midwest Is?
Outlet shopping today was a disappointing but relieving. I didn't buy nearly enough clothing to feel ready to tackle being a "lawyer" or even an "adult," but I also didn't spend the bank. I ended up buying some practical things and some necessary things. No suits, however, so that still has to get done. It's a rough job suit shopping, but somebody's gotta do it. Ron contemplated both seersucker and white suits today. I encouraged him to go for it. So cheap. Alas, the peer pressure didn't work this time. Meanwhile my shoulders inhibited my suit shopping, as did some ugly suits. I'd say the real let down was the Banana Republic Outlet. Some people know that I am pretty much in love with Banana Republic (or Nana Pubs as some have been known to call it). Nevermind the fact that their dress shirts really aren't sized for me or that they constantly above my price range. The quality, the comfort, and the look are what I'm all about. Unfortunately they had just about nothing I wanted today. What the hell Nana Pubs, you are supposed to be my favorite, my rock. Today, you were a total let down. Your little brother, Gap, was far superior. You ought to be ashamed.
This evening, I politely declined to go to a strip club. I am certain I made the right decision. It is an experience in life that I am still lacking, but I am comfortable letting it remain that way.
I've been watching Heroes, season 1 on DVD. (Thanks Library!) I like it, but it's so repetitive and very little happens each episode. They follow so many character plots that it takes three episodes for anything coherent to happen and any event to resolve itself. It doesn't help that they do a "previously on Heroes" then they re-show the entire scene were a character left off, then some character has a dream where you see the same thing, then they have a flashback to that dream, then there's a painting of it, then it actually happens. By the end you have viewed the same scene twelve times and wasted half the episode. I understand that Peter is going to explode! I got it after the first three times I saw it! I'm looking forward to the next episode where small strands of plot will further be revealed, two questions will be answered, five new questions will pop up, and I'll get to see Peter explode again. Had to get that out there. I really do like it, but if it moved a little faster and had a little more confidence in viewers to figure it out, I would appreciate it.
On Friday I saw "Johnny Baseball" with Eva. It's a musical about the Red Sox, race relations, and a love story. Two of those areas they covered well; one they covered poorly. You can guess which was the poor one. Now you can check your answer: it's the love story. I'm not crazy about musicals to begin with, but adding an ill-conceived and ultimately irrelevant love story with mundane songs didn't help anything. The rest of the show, however, was lots of fun. It is very Boston. They rhyme with Scituate and Methuen, make fun of Worcester, and capture the baseball culture of Boston very well. Part of the plot takes place during Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS, codename the best baseball game ever played. So of course you have to love that. Also, I didn't know that the Red Sox were the last baseball team to integrate and declined to sign Willie Mays. Go team. Yes, the Red Sox have made some (understatement) mistakes, but at least....ummm....they've been playing well this week. And at least....they aren't the Yankees!
Heading off to Chicago tomorrow, land of Bears, Cubs, and White Sox. Also Matt, Mike, Leor, Obama, and others (I'm just assuming other people live there - I don't have firsthand experience yet). But I'm excited. Do you know what the Midwest is? (David Ronn's answer was "Yes.") Well I'm going to find out tomorrow.
This evening, I politely declined to go to a strip club. I am certain I made the right decision. It is an experience in life that I am still lacking, but I am comfortable letting it remain that way.
I've been watching Heroes, season 1 on DVD. (Thanks Library!) I like it, but it's so repetitive and very little happens each episode. They follow so many character plots that it takes three episodes for anything coherent to happen and any event to resolve itself. It doesn't help that they do a "previously on Heroes" then they re-show the entire scene were a character left off, then some character has a dream where you see the same thing, then they have a flashback to that dream, then there's a painting of it, then it actually happens. By the end you have viewed the same scene twelve times and wasted half the episode. I understand that Peter is going to explode! I got it after the first three times I saw it! I'm looking forward to the next episode where small strands of plot will further be revealed, two questions will be answered, five new questions will pop up, and I'll get to see Peter explode again. Had to get that out there. I really do like it, but if it moved a little faster and had a little more confidence in viewers to figure it out, I would appreciate it.
On Friday I saw "Johnny Baseball" with Eva. It's a musical about the Red Sox, race relations, and a love story. Two of those areas they covered well; one they covered poorly. You can guess which was the poor one. Now you can check your answer: it's the love story. I'm not crazy about musicals to begin with, but adding an ill-conceived and ultimately irrelevant love story with mundane songs didn't help anything. The rest of the show, however, was lots of fun. It is very Boston. They rhyme with Scituate and Methuen, make fun of Worcester, and capture the baseball culture of Boston very well. Part of the plot takes place during Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS, codename the best baseball game ever played. So of course you have to love that. Also, I didn't know that the Red Sox were the last baseball team to integrate and declined to sign Willie Mays. Go team. Yes, the Red Sox have made some (understatement) mistakes, but at least....ummm....they've been playing well this week. And at least....they aren't the Yankees!
Heading off to Chicago tomorrow, land of Bears, Cubs, and White Sox. Also Matt, Mike, Leor, Obama, and others (I'm just assuming other people live there - I don't have firsthand experience yet). But I'm excited. Do you know what the Midwest is? (David Ronn's answer was "Yes.") Well I'm going to find out tomorrow.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
It was a very baseball weekend. Saturday Rebecca and I went to Nationals Stadium to see the Nats play an exhibition game against the Red Sox. We just took the metro to the stadium, went to a ticket kiosk, swiped a credit card, and walked in. Wow - that's a whole new concept to me. Being able to get reasonably priced tickets the day of the game? That...that never happens for Red Sox games. It's a whole new paradigm of baseball.
Also notable about the game, there were probably just as many, if not more, people sporting Red Sox gear than Nationals gear. It was ridiculous. Literally everyone who got off the metro with us was wearing Sox hats and jerseys. It was like being on the T getting off at Fenway, only the walk was shorter, the public transportation was cleaner, and everyone was more polite. I felt like starting a "Yankees Suck" cheer just for old times.
Red Sox clearly won. We got to see Wakefield start the game (they helped him stand up without his walker) and the starting lineup go through a couple of times. Youk hit a home run, Drew hit a home run, and, most importantly, Julio Lugo doesn't play for us any more. Thankfully. Also got to see Lowell and Tek hit. The Red Sox have been raiding the old folks home. Since I'm going to be a Nats fan, it was good to see them too. I love Ryan Zimmerman and Ian Desmond. Of course, the Nats still suck so it was rough times for them. But they will not be the worst team in baseball this year! I think that honor will go to the Blue Jays or the Astros.
Then last night was opening day - Yankees vs. Red Sox. I went to a bar to watch the game opposite Reza, who was rooting for the Evil Empire (that's right, he's a communist). We were joined by a number of people who don't care much about baseball, including Tracy who only watches tennis. I told her to go back to Westchester and reexamine her life. After a good game, and some slow reflexes by the ancient/ugly Jorge Posada the good guys won; the bad guys lost; all was right with the world; and it is at last baseball season again!
In honor of baseball season, my projections really quickly. We'll see how this goes.
AL: Yankees, Twins, Mariners, Red Sox (wildcard)
NL: Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies, Braves (wildcard)
World Series: (loyalty pick) Red Sox over Phillies; (real pick) Yankees over Phillies
Stupidest Baseball Team: Astros
ROYs: Heyward (NL) and Matsuz (AL)
Cy Youngs: Halladay (NL) and Felix Hernandez (NL)
MVPs, traditional thinking: Pujols (NL) and Longoria (AL)
MVPs, out on a limb: Votto (NL) and B.J. Upton (AL)
Now that baseball is out of the way...there isn't much else.
Who has time on their hands to protest scientology? There are those people in the Guy Fawkes masks that stand outside protesting it. I mean, sure it's silly and probably a huge fraudulent scheme, but why not let people dumb enough to buy into it just go for it? What exactly are they protesting out there? Making bad ideas? If that's the case, why not protest tequila - always a bad idea. Or building a city on a swamp (DC) - that was a bad idea too.
I get to eat bread and drink beer tomorrow night! You don't know how good you have it until it is taken away. I will be thankful for my newly returned abilities...for at least a week. More if I remember, but I've got a lot on my plate to memorize for finals.
Also notable about the game, there were probably just as many, if not more, people sporting Red Sox gear than Nationals gear. It was ridiculous. Literally everyone who got off the metro with us was wearing Sox hats and jerseys. It was like being on the T getting off at Fenway, only the walk was shorter, the public transportation was cleaner, and everyone was more polite. I felt like starting a "Yankees Suck" cheer just for old times.
Red Sox clearly won. We got to see Wakefield start the game (they helped him stand up without his walker) and the starting lineup go through a couple of times. Youk hit a home run, Drew hit a home run, and, most importantly, Julio Lugo doesn't play for us any more. Thankfully. Also got to see Lowell and Tek hit. The Red Sox have been raiding the old folks home. Since I'm going to be a Nats fan, it was good to see them too. I love Ryan Zimmerman and Ian Desmond. Of course, the Nats still suck so it was rough times for them. But they will not be the worst team in baseball this year! I think that honor will go to the Blue Jays or the Astros.
Then last night was opening day - Yankees vs. Red Sox. I went to a bar to watch the game opposite Reza, who was rooting for the Evil Empire (that's right, he's a communist). We were joined by a number of people who don't care much about baseball, including Tracy who only watches tennis. I told her to go back to Westchester and reexamine her life. After a good game, and some slow reflexes by the ancient/ugly Jorge Posada the good guys won; the bad guys lost; all was right with the world; and it is at last baseball season again!
In honor of baseball season, my projections really quickly. We'll see how this goes.
AL: Yankees, Twins, Mariners, Red Sox (wildcard)
NL: Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies, Braves (wildcard)
World Series: (loyalty pick) Red Sox over Phillies; (real pick) Yankees over Phillies
Stupidest Baseball Team: Astros
ROYs: Heyward (NL) and Matsuz (AL)
Cy Youngs: Halladay (NL) and Felix Hernandez (NL)
MVPs, traditional thinking: Pujols (NL) and Longoria (AL)
MVPs, out on a limb: Votto (NL) and B.J. Upton (AL)
Now that baseball is out of the way...there isn't much else.
Who has time on their hands to protest scientology? There are those people in the Guy Fawkes masks that stand outside protesting it. I mean, sure it's silly and probably a huge fraudulent scheme, but why not let people dumb enough to buy into it just go for it? What exactly are they protesting out there? Making bad ideas? If that's the case, why not protest tequila - always a bad idea. Or building a city on a swamp (DC) - that was a bad idea too.
I get to eat bread and drink beer tomorrow night! You don't know how good you have it until it is taken away. I will be thankful for my newly returned abilities...for at least a week. More if I remember, but I've got a lot on my plate to memorize for finals.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Dick Dastardly
Baseball is a fantastic sport. I am so excited for the Red Sox and the postseason. Pardon me, I am wicked excited. Wicked. I'm gonna throw the ball wicked hahd.
At school this is kind of the week of impending doom. Through some confusion I didn't hand in my outline for Memo 2 on time. But it's ungraded and my professor understands, so it's ok. But that's not a great start to the memo. Now I'm trying to get ahead on the memo this weekend so that I can study for my Torts midterm all week next week. And by all week I mean in addition to our regular classwork. No big deal, right? Ahhh. That's why impending doom. But I can't be too worried about the midterm, particularly when my professor names a character in the situation presented "Dick Dastardly." At least he did that in last year's midterm, of which we have a copy, but of course I have not looked at yet. We'll get to that in good time. A week is enough to study for a 1 hour test, right? Well it'd better be.
Yesterday I was planning on working on Memo 2 after classes, but I planned to meet up for a drink with my godfather's daughter's ex-boyfriend. No joke-that's the connection. His name is Sam. Actually, one of his paintings is in the hall of my house. He's a good deal older than me, I think he helped babysit me when I was like 9, but no matter. Now we are both of legal drinking age and met up during happy hour, which makes any social situation more likely to be a success. And a success it was (not because I was drunk, I wasn't). We talked for a while and then a friend of his from the Peace Corps came, who was cool too. Yeah, Sam did Peace Corps in Turkmenistan. That's a real place I'm told. Apparently it is home to a brutal totalitarian dictatorship. Sweet. Sam's been in DC for 3 months working as a journalist covering nuclear energy policy, in which he has no particular background. But he likes his job and he has a job, so good for him. We talked about shoes and ships and ceiling wax and cabbages and kings. And other things which are more relevant. Sam's a cool guy whose done a lot of stuff, and, very importantly, he's not a law school student or lawyer, so it was a good time for me. Also it was at the Big Hunt which is the most normal bar in Dupont Circle. Because it is Dupont it is clearly not a dive bar, but at least it tries to be. You can't really be a dive bar when everyone (except me) is wearing a collared shirt. But at least they don't put up trendy photos or make everything leather or new-age in some way. Overall I'm a fan.
It actually makes me miss hipsters. I'm not a hipster, but sometimes I like having them around. I'm sympathetic to their attitude. And I like watching them be too cool for everyone else. Also messenger bags.
Right, hanging out with Sam. Basically we had a couple beers, ate some burgers (half price burger night!), and did normal, non-stressy things. I hope to do it again some time. Also, we sat on the patio where Sam and his friend (damn, wish I remembered his name...he's Brazilian and not Thiago?) pretty much chain smoked the entire time. For the first hour after I left all I could smell was smoke, and I was convinced I smelled like a pack of Marlboros. I made Anat smell me and then smell my coat, but amazingly there was not a trace of smoke on me. Crazy. Maybe cigarettes really are magical. Probably not though. Also, we got approached by some guy promoting Camel cigarettes who suckered me into giving him my email address by promising me a free Camel zippo lighter. Of course I got to see the lighter after he had all my info. Then he immediately peaced out. Hrmm. Well, turns out the lighter looks awesome, but doesn't come with any lighter fluid. Awesome, that's how I like my lighters. Jackass.
At school this is kind of the week of impending doom. Through some confusion I didn't hand in my outline for Memo 2 on time. But it's ungraded and my professor understands, so it's ok. But that's not a great start to the memo. Now I'm trying to get ahead on the memo this weekend so that I can study for my Torts midterm all week next week. And by all week I mean in addition to our regular classwork. No big deal, right? Ahhh. That's why impending doom. But I can't be too worried about the midterm, particularly when my professor names a character in the situation presented "Dick Dastardly." At least he did that in last year's midterm, of which we have a copy, but of course I have not looked at yet. We'll get to that in good time. A week is enough to study for a 1 hour test, right? Well it'd better be.
Yesterday I was planning on working on Memo 2 after classes, but I planned to meet up for a drink with my godfather's daughter's ex-boyfriend. No joke-that's the connection. His name is Sam. Actually, one of his paintings is in the hall of my house. He's a good deal older than me, I think he helped babysit me when I was like 9, but no matter. Now we are both of legal drinking age and met up during happy hour, which makes any social situation more likely to be a success. And a success it was (not because I was drunk, I wasn't). We talked for a while and then a friend of his from the Peace Corps came, who was cool too. Yeah, Sam did Peace Corps in Turkmenistan. That's a real place I'm told. Apparently it is home to a brutal totalitarian dictatorship. Sweet. Sam's been in DC for 3 months working as a journalist covering nuclear energy policy, in which he has no particular background. But he likes his job and he has a job, so good for him. We talked about shoes and ships and ceiling wax and cabbages and kings. And other things which are more relevant. Sam's a cool guy whose done a lot of stuff, and, very importantly, he's not a law school student or lawyer, so it was a good time for me. Also it was at the Big Hunt which is the most normal bar in Dupont Circle. Because it is Dupont it is clearly not a dive bar, but at least it tries to be. You can't really be a dive bar when everyone (except me) is wearing a collared shirt. But at least they don't put up trendy photos or make everything leather or new-age in some way. Overall I'm a fan.
It actually makes me miss hipsters. I'm not a hipster, but sometimes I like having them around. I'm sympathetic to their attitude. And I like watching them be too cool for everyone else. Also messenger bags.
Right, hanging out with Sam. Basically we had a couple beers, ate some burgers (half price burger night!), and did normal, non-stressy things. I hope to do it again some time. Also, we sat on the patio where Sam and his friend (damn, wish I remembered his name...he's Brazilian and not Thiago?) pretty much chain smoked the entire time. For the first hour after I left all I could smell was smoke, and I was convinced I smelled like a pack of Marlboros. I made Anat smell me and then smell my coat, but amazingly there was not a trace of smoke on me. Crazy. Maybe cigarettes really are magical. Probably not though. Also, we got approached by some guy promoting Camel cigarettes who suckered me into giving him my email address by promising me a free Camel zippo lighter. Of course I got to see the lighter after he had all my info. Then he immediately peaced out. Hrmm. Well, turns out the lighter looks awesome, but doesn't come with any lighter fluid. Awesome, that's how I like my lighters. Jackass.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Black Mana
I know that it may be a tiresome subject to some, but I am here to reinforce the fact that Washington is built on a swamp. Thus the swamp gasses and other such swamp-sounding things conspire to bring about awful amounts of humidity in the city. I mean goddamn, I pretty much step outside and start sweating. I was warned before I came; and I do have central air in my apartment to keep the heat at bay, but eventually you have to walk around outside.
Walking around was particularly troublesome when going to the Nationals game. I went with a few new classmates to a bar before the game. My first happy hour! (The city is obsessed with happy hours. It loves them. DC:Happy Hours as Sam:Frodo if you want to get SAT about it.) It was nice spending some amount of time with a limited amount of people, rather than my entire law school class, and getting to know them. Instead of having "Well, I may never see this girl again so it doesn't matter whether her name was Eliza or Elisa," going though my head, I got the chance to say "Sorry, what was your name again?" and actually had the opportunity to meet people who can make some sort of impression on me.
We walked back from happy hour to the law school, and that's when my problem with the humidity started. Strolling a few blocks in the shade caused me to sweat like I had attempted to beat Ussain Bolt in a foot race. I was wearing a white shirt which doesn't make sweat too obvious, so I didn't look like I had been wading in armpit high water, but that didn't stop me from having to wipe my forehead every twenty seconds. Luckily we met up with a guy who also looked like he was about to pass out from heat exhaustion, so my perspiration wasn't questioned too much. By the end of the night I NEEDED a shower worse than I have in a while. I felt terrible for the lady standing next to me as I extended my arm to hold a rail on the metro. As far as I know she passed out from my odor but was propped up by other commuters because the train was too packed to move anywhere. I ended up showering and then going to a few bars and accidentally ordering a $12 drink. It was Jack Daniels on the rocks. If I had to do it all over again I would have showered and then ordered a $4 beer instead. What a waste of money.
But enough about the shortcomings of personal hygiene. I also was at a "baseball" game during this time. And I do mean a "baseball" game because it was a Nationals/Brewers game. Now the Brewers are moderately in wild card contention in the NL. They won't get to the postseason, but they are a decent ball club. The Nationals, my new adopted team, however, are in less than good shape. They may have just signed the #1 overall draft pick (for $15 million...the kid is 21...I feel unaccomplished), but they are not a joy to watch on the field. They have a nice stadium at least. I, and about 37 other people, can attest to that. I felt bad for the players who had to spend their time competing in front of such a small audience. It just seems like a waste of their time. The stadium sits over 40,000 people, and it was not even half full. It was a stark contrast to the smaller and much fuller Fenway Park where you can't even get a ticket without selling a fraction of your soul. Another contrast to Fenway was the fact that not everyone was wearing a Red Sox hat and no one was chanting "Yankees Suck." I couldn't understand it; it was weird. It was even more pathetic when it drizzled a bit during the game, causing half of the half-full stadium to leave, leaving a quarter-full stadium. I think at that point we can abandon the optimism in calling it half full and say it was mostly empty.
Other observations about the baseball game:
-I have never seen more teams that were not playing in the game represented through shirts and caps at the stadium (teams spotted included the Twins, White Sox, Yankees, and Red Sox, none of whom are even in the same league as the Nationals. Also the Mets, who are in the same division, but were certainly not participating in that game).
- I have never been more happy to have the seventh inning stretch.
- The "KissCam" is preposterous. It is awkward, heteronormative, and just plain creepy.
- Yankees Suck
- There are a lot of ugly people in the world. And at Nationals Stadium. I loudly pointed this out to some of my new classmates who were apparently more kindhearted than me and I probably did not win friends with this observation.
- Linkin Park sucks and anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar.
But my issues with the humidity did not end with my shower after the Nationals game. The next day I walked around the city with Shaked, Ron, Yael, Missy, and Rachel. It was quite nice to see them. But it might have been nicer if I owned an umbrella. During a delicious lunch in the American Injun Museum the humidity broke a bit and it started to rain heavily. (Quick note, I really wanted to try to barter with the people at the gift shop of the American Indian Museum.) After discovering there was no gambling in the Museum it was decided that we would go to the American History Museum (not for the gambling). But the rain was an issue. The Smithsonian was selling ponchos for $5 and umbrellas for $15. Both seemed like rip offs, particularly considering what Americans pay in taxes to the federal government to keep the museums open, so Yael and I decided to build our own ponchos out of plastic umbrella bags that are free. Turns out poncho making is best left to the professionals. By the time I made it to the American History Museum I was completely soaked and my feet were going for a dip in the swimming pool that was my shoes. I tried to dry off in the men's room using the hand dryer, but it turns out they are much better on hands than on my shorts. I had to learn about the American Presidents and see Dorothy's ruby slippers all wet.
If I wake up tomorrow with a cold, I'll know why. And I will blame this goddamn swamp. If I could sum my experiences with humidity in one word it would be air conditioning.
Walking around was particularly troublesome when going to the Nationals game. I went with a few new classmates to a bar before the game. My first happy hour! (The city is obsessed with happy hours. It loves them. DC:Happy Hours as Sam:Frodo if you want to get SAT about it.) It was nice spending some amount of time with a limited amount of people, rather than my entire law school class, and getting to know them. Instead of having "Well, I may never see this girl again so it doesn't matter whether her name was Eliza or Elisa," going though my head, I got the chance to say "Sorry, what was your name again?" and actually had the opportunity to meet people who can make some sort of impression on me.
We walked back from happy hour to the law school, and that's when my problem with the humidity started. Strolling a few blocks in the shade caused me to sweat like I had attempted to beat Ussain Bolt in a foot race. I was wearing a white shirt which doesn't make sweat too obvious, so I didn't look like I had been wading in armpit high water, but that didn't stop me from having to wipe my forehead every twenty seconds. Luckily we met up with a guy who also looked like he was about to pass out from heat exhaustion, so my perspiration wasn't questioned too much. By the end of the night I NEEDED a shower worse than I have in a while. I felt terrible for the lady standing next to me as I extended my arm to hold a rail on the metro. As far as I know she passed out from my odor but was propped up by other commuters because the train was too packed to move anywhere. I ended up showering and then going to a few bars and accidentally ordering a $12 drink. It was Jack Daniels on the rocks. If I had to do it all over again I would have showered and then ordered a $4 beer instead. What a waste of money.
But enough about the shortcomings of personal hygiene. I also was at a "baseball" game during this time. And I do mean a "baseball" game because it was a Nationals/Brewers game. Now the Brewers are moderately in wild card contention in the NL. They won't get to the postseason, but they are a decent ball club. The Nationals, my new adopted team, however, are in less than good shape. They may have just signed the #1 overall draft pick (for $15 million...the kid is 21...I feel unaccomplished), but they are not a joy to watch on the field. They have a nice stadium at least. I, and about 37 other people, can attest to that. I felt bad for the players who had to spend their time competing in front of such a small audience. It just seems like a waste of their time. The stadium sits over 40,000 people, and it was not even half full. It was a stark contrast to the smaller and much fuller Fenway Park where you can't even get a ticket without selling a fraction of your soul. Another contrast to Fenway was the fact that not everyone was wearing a Red Sox hat and no one was chanting "Yankees Suck." I couldn't understand it; it was weird. It was even more pathetic when it drizzled a bit during the game, causing half of the half-full stadium to leave, leaving a quarter-full stadium. I think at that point we can abandon the optimism in calling it half full and say it was mostly empty.
Other observations about the baseball game:
-I have never seen more teams that were not playing in the game represented through shirts and caps at the stadium (teams spotted included the Twins, White Sox, Yankees, and Red Sox, none of whom are even in the same league as the Nationals. Also the Mets, who are in the same division, but were certainly not participating in that game).
- I have never been more happy to have the seventh inning stretch.
- The "KissCam" is preposterous. It is awkward, heteronormative, and just plain creepy.
- Yankees Suck
- There are a lot of ugly people in the world. And at Nationals Stadium. I loudly pointed this out to some of my new classmates who were apparently more kindhearted than me and I probably did not win friends with this observation.
- Linkin Park sucks and anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar.
But my issues with the humidity did not end with my shower after the Nationals game. The next day I walked around the city with Shaked, Ron, Yael, Missy, and Rachel. It was quite nice to see them. But it might have been nicer if I owned an umbrella. During a delicious lunch in the American Injun Museum the humidity broke a bit and it started to rain heavily. (Quick note, I really wanted to try to barter with the people at the gift shop of the American Indian Museum.) After discovering there was no gambling in the Museum it was decided that we would go to the American History Museum (not for the gambling). But the rain was an issue. The Smithsonian was selling ponchos for $5 and umbrellas for $15. Both seemed like rip offs, particularly considering what Americans pay in taxes to the federal government to keep the museums open, so Yael and I decided to build our own ponchos out of plastic umbrella bags that are free. Turns out poncho making is best left to the professionals. By the time I made it to the American History Museum I was completely soaked and my feet were going for a dip in the swimming pool that was my shoes. I tried to dry off in the men's room using the hand dryer, but it turns out they are much better on hands than on my shorts. I had to learn about the American Presidents and see Dorothy's ruby slippers all wet.
If I wake up tomorrow with a cold, I'll know why. And I will blame this goddamn swamp. If I could sum my experiences with humidity in one word it would be air conditioning.
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