"Before" pictures

I got the keys to my new apartment today, and I am beyond excited. My new landlord and I did a walk-through, figured out what he needs to fix, and then he handed me the key. Or, shall I say, keys. My new apartment is in a 2-locks and a security gate kind of neighborhood, but that's ok with me, because it's MINE. MY food in the fridge, MY butt on the couch, MY shows on the DVR, MY hair in the sink.

I thought I'd document this momentous occasion with some "before" pictures I took today. For folks who don't live in big cities, this apartment might not seem like much. But for you city folks, let me tell you: there is a real door between the bedroom and living room! And a dishwasher! And 2-almost-3 whole closets! And a yard! And it's affordable. Basically, unbelievable. 

Forgive my boyfriend's bike in a few shots. 

This is the front door to the right, closet to the left.

The living room is huge. The door to the bedroom is on the left, kitchen straight ahead.

More living room - the fireplace actually works!

A few of the kitchen - typical early 1900's galley kitchen.

This is back in the bedroom, looking towards the living room. The bedroom is admittedly small, but should fit my bed, a dresser, and maybe a small bookshelf.

The backyard doesn't look like much, but it's a backyard in the city, so I'm not complaining! This is where I'd like to put some patio furniture.

And the whole backyard. Pray tell, what does one actually store in a garden shed? Can I keep a pony in that little building?

Vanna:

So I'm very excited. I'm hoping to have the place fully furnished within a few weeks or so, so count on some "after" pictures as well. 

The happy and the sad

Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?

Let's start with the bad, get it over with, and proceed to the nice, shall we?

Yesterday, as you all know, two Metro trains collided and killed nine people on board. At least 70 others were injured. I'm not one of the people saying, "I was GOING to be on that train but I stopped to talk to my best friend's brother's fiancee, so I missed it" or anything like that. All I wanted to say is, it shook me up. 

Despite the gun violence and muggings and sex scandals, I feel safe here in DC. I am a (mostly) rational person and I know that cars are more dangerous than Metro trains. Even so, it shook me. The Metro is my only form of transportation other than walking or riding my bike, which has its own dangers. 

The accident yesterday was a sad day for DC. 7 of the 9 people who died were women, and most of them that I've heard information about were mothers. One was a widow with 6 children. I can't stop thinking about those 6 children. Another killed was a retired army general who lead the DC National Guard. Another man, a school administrator, was on his way to teach vacation Bible school when the train crashed. Yet another was a woman who was planning to open a salon, "LaVonda's House of Beauty." LaVonda was on the Metro on her way to pick up her sons from daycare. On the back of last week's racially-motivated shooting at the Holocaust Museum, this crash is weighing heavily on me. I don't know anyone who was on the train, but my heart goes out to everyone affected. 

And I might not sit in the front Metro car anymore. Just in case.

***

As for the good news, I finally got approved for the apartment those of you who follow me on Twitter (poor things) have heard me complaining about for over a week now. I went to an open house a week ago Saturday, put in an application Sunday, and didn't hear back until yesterday. The owner was afraid that my sad federal salary was not enough to afford the rent. I sent him a "I'm just a Southern girl trying to get my start in the big city" sort of email, and I was in!

The apartment, for you Washingtonians, is near the Potomac Avenue Metro stop. In case you didn't know, Potomac Ave. is the new Columbia Heights (I'm trademarking that. Maybe making t-shirts. Let me know if you want one). It's the first floor (NOT a basement!) of a three-story house. It's a one bedroom, allllll to myself, and the puppy of course. It's small, but it will be mine, and that's exciting.

I lived by myself for two years in grad school, and it really suits me. I'm organized and clean and particular about how I like to keep things, and I love having my own little orderly world to come home to. I also need a decent amount of alone time and considering I share an office with four other people, I never get that during the day. 

I'm moving in a week from Wednesday at the latest, or possibly this weekend. I will, of course, update you with pictures as soon as I can! I'm excited about really living on my own in the city for the first time. 

Revolving door

I've lived in DC for 2 years and 16 days. In that time, the amount of friends I've lost to other cities, other countries even, is saddening.

I realize most people don't come to the District to settle down; they come here to get ahead, to make use of their PoliSci degrees, to make contacts, and then to move "home" again, wherever home might be.

I can't see leaving this place. My job is here, the job that I adore, a job that literally does not exist elsewhere. My boyfriend is here, the one it's hard to imagine life without, and he doesn't want to leave. My friends, my first friends who I didn't meet through the easy catalyst of school, my friends who I had to work hard to get, my friends who are the only ones who know the grown-up me, they're here, too. My home, my home sweet home, it's here.

I can pretend that I'm still a Carolina girl. I can drink my Cheerwine, listen to my beach music,  wear my pastel sundresses, and wax poetic about manners and porchswings and fireflies, but DC is in my blood whether I like it or not.

As I lose yet another friend this summer, to the Midwest and a boyfriend in law school, I have to acknowledge what this place has come to mean to me over the past two years. I never imagined myself being here. Now? I can't imagine being anywhere else.

A Weekend Update: In Which I Got Drunk with Bloggers, Found an Apartment, and Rode Bikes with Owen Wilson

Best. weekend. evah. (I'm from Boston now).

I started my Friday evening with a Gals Guide DC happy hour at Lauriol Plaza hosted by the lovely brides-to-be Heidi and Liz. Then I met up with a ton of DC bloggers at Reef. Debauchery was had, but I won't go into details because what happens in Adams Morgan stays in Adams Morgan. Isn't that the way the saying goes?

Even cooler, (sorry guys), was the fact that I found an apartment I AM IN LOVE WITH. It's near the ever-classy Potomac Ave Metro stop and is practically over the river in Anacostia, but they just got a Harris Teeter! And it's a one bedroom! With a yard! And I can ride my bike to work! And it's about 100 feet from a McDonalds! All in all, the perfect abode. I'm going to drop off my application and checks at the real estate agent's this morning. I know I'm the first to apply, but I just have to hope that they find my finances and credit score sufficient to get the place. Pray/cross your fingers/eat Oreos for me!

Aaaand finally, to wrap up my awesome weekend, I freaking rode bikes with Owen Wilson. Back story is sort of irrelevant, basically he is in town making a movie, some of my bike shop friends helped him out with getting a bike for while he is in town, and they invited him out to our ride that we do every Sunday.

 I didn't get a picture because we wanted him to feel comfortable and relaxed, but it did happen. He was much more fast on the bike than I expected and I had a really hard time keeping up - the group eventually dropped me. Yup, Owen Wilson kicked my ass. When I finally caught up to the group, I said something super-suave to him like, "Owen Wilson, you just put me on the pain train." He laughed. Overall, he's a pretty subdued person, not much to say. But whatever. I rode bikes with him and refrained from asking to touch his nose. Good times. 

The front porch thing

I have this thing, a defining thing really, in my life. I like to sit on porches. Having porch-sitting time is legitimately important to me - I schedule it into my day if I have to. There are a few variations, coffee + the steps + the newspaper, or a chair with my feet up on the railing + my Mac + a glass of wine, or possibly cross-legged + a beer + a book.

No matter the drink/location/entertainment combo, this guy is always beside me:

I trained him, during porch sitting time, not to go down past the highest step. He's a good boy.

Today, it's a coffee in my favorite mug + Macbook + steps sort of day.

This is the face I get when I come up with a bad idea. Do chihuahuas like coffee?

Here ya go little buddy. It's the drink of the gods.

Turns out, chihuahuas don't like coffee. More for me.                                                                             

I assume my affinity for porch-sitting comes from being raised in the South. It may be a stereotype of Southerners, but then again, sometimes stereotypes can be true. It makes me sad that most new houses these days only have a small front stoop and then a giant deck out back. How can you spy on your neighbors from the back yard?

Back decks are not for me, no thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for a third cup of coffee.

The List #75: Fall in love

I'll just go ahead and say it: I'm a goner. 

He's a great kisser. He's smart as hell. He likes Johnny Cash. He's met my mom. He has different voices for all of our pets and narrates their inner thoughts. He complained that I've never blogged about him. He has sweet eyes. He wears a lot of short-sleeved button-down shirts.  He makes it look cool. He loves bikes. And me. 

I'm lucky.

Misunderstandings (alternate title: I Swear I Have Common Sense)

• I only realized about 3 years ago that exists are numbered according to how far apart they are. Genius! I also only fairly recently figured out that highways spawned by other highways are similarly numbered (ex: I-95, 395, and 495 in DC or I-40, 440, and 540 in Raleigh).

• When I was little, my mom told me that American Indians took a spoonful of cereal and then carefully let most of the milk pour back into the bowl, leaving mainly cereal on the spoon before they ate it. This was, I think, motivated by the fact that I would take a huge spoonful of cereal and dribble the milk from the bowl to my face, making a huge mess. No matter HOW good her intentions were, I still don't think they make up for the fact that she had me convinced that American Indians loved Cap'n'Crunch. 

• One of my parents (I haven't figured out which one to pin this one on yet) told me as a young child that there is only one kind of tax - they kind you get when you buy something (i.e. sales tax). I sort of understood as a child that there was some nebulous thing out there (income tax) that people got all worked up about around April, but I guess 1040s were too complex to explain to a seven-year old. Since everyone knows parents are ALWAYS right, this situation led to a really embarrassing playground argument with a classmate and a subsequent teacher inquiry. That was the day I realized parents really don't know everything. 

• It took until high school for me to realize that raisins were dried grapes and pickles were brined cucumbers. 

Muddy Buddy race report and The List, #32

A few weeks ago participated in my first off-road race, the Muddy Buddy in Richmond, Virginia. The race consisted of 5 legs that we raced with a partner. The partners alternated running or riding the shared mountain bike, all while completing intermittent obstacles like rock walls or net climbs. The race ended with a crawl through a foot-deep mud pit. 

This race was the first time I've ever really been on a mountain bike over any sort of actual terrain, so I'm crossing #32 off my list. I've got to say, I didn't really love it. I'm used to a road bike, so the mountain bike felt clumsy, clunky, and really slow. I think from now on, I'll stick to running the trails, not biking them.

Despite my frustration with the bike portions (including one where I had to portage the bike across a waist-high stream), the race was really pretty fun. If I do it again next year, it will be solely for the awesome crawl through the mud pit. 

Another race report will be forthcoming from today's Capitol Hill Classic 10k, but I'm waiting for the results to go up on their website. I saw several other bloggers at the race, including Heidi. I also think I saw Adam and Arjewtino, who recently retired from the DC blogging community, both running much faster than me, of course. Hope y'all had a great race and everyone has had a fantastic weekend.