Note: Since I have not received any authorizations by any of the private people mentioned here to talk about them here, I have replaced their names with non-arbitrary, non-initial letters, and refrained from using gender-identifying pronouns. If any of the people who I’ve mentioned here would prefer to be identified by name, let me know and I’ll gladly do so.
So I came back from Washington D.C. yesterday, after spending the weekend hanging out with old friends, making new ones, and getting interviewed as part of my application for the JET Program. It was quite fun, and a nice break from Puerto Rico. I kinda wish I could have stayed longer. In any case, some random notes.
- Dupont Circle is not Logan Circle, and Logan Circle is not Dupont Circle.
- Dupont Circle, on the other hand, is mostly unrecognizable for me. With the exception of the circle itself and one of the Metro Station exits.
- On the other hand, it had been six years since I’d last lived there.*
- G, who allowed me to stay in hir appartment, was an awesome host. Zie gave me a bed, made me food, took me drinking, and introduced me to hir equally awesome (and, if I may be utterly and completely superficial for a moment, quite good-looking**) friends. I was also really, really glad to see hir again and catch up after nearly four years.
- Books-a-Million did not have a copy of Melissa Harris-Perry’s. Sister Citizen. Kramerbooks—a nearby bookstore which I can only describe as “indier”, based on the three minutes I spent there–did. I wish I could have spent more time there, but I was carrying the ton of books I just bought, and just wanted to get home.
- Also, I would by anything written by Melissa Harris-Perry. If she ever decides to write a version of the phone book, I’d pre-order that thing in a picosecond.
- S, my friend/former boss-person, whom I went to have lunch with on Friday, has personally met Chris Hayes. That is AWESOME.
- As a Puerto Rican, winter snow causes inscrutable feelings of nostalgia and longing, and makes me feel like a kid. Winter rain, on the other hand, is the worst thing ever, and can fuck off. Guess which one I got?
- The one bus I took had a $1.70 fare–$.95 cents more than Puerto Rico buses. On the other hand, the D.C. buses arrived when they said they did, and could be depended on when making plans without having to leave a two-hour window to account for them. Advantage: DC.
- In opposition to suggestions by individual Washington Center, I chose to take the Metro Green Line during my trip. I am so a rebel.
- Most of the people at the Japanese embassy that I managed to see were, somewhat surprisingly, not Japanese. I’m not sure if this is always the case, or something that’s particular for the occasion. The interview I thought went reasonably well, with the only particularly disappointing part being the last part, where I was asked a series of questions in Japanese, with the expectation that I answered in Japanese. I do not feel I did particularly well–I mostly deal with written Japanese–and I fear that that part will turn out to be the deal maker/breaker. In any case, I rather enjoyed my experience there. Now all that’s left is to knock on wood furiously***
A list off the goodies I bought and one-sentence reviews is upcoming.
*And by “there”, I mean “Alexandria, Virginia”.
** Gah. I feel grody adding this here. It’s kinda irrelevant–their looks aren’t connected to their awesomeness, and I feel like thinking “hey, G’s friends are hot” makes my opinion about said awesomeness suspect. Like I need to be completely asexual to truly be a person’s friend, which feels like an extension of the ol’ “guys and girls can’t be friends” bullshit****, which…argh–especially since I don’t think there’s anything wrong with finding random people attractive***** . I don’t know if I’m the only person that thinks like this, or if I want the answer to the question to be “yes” or “no”.
*** Masturbation euphemism? Sounds like it.
****And it is bullshit.
***** Which sounds so much like contradicting what I’ve just said that I suspect that I think it’s only wrong when I do it. And now my thinking’s gone pretzel-shaped.