GINGER

I was a flapper this year.

Zakia and I gettin down at a house party.

The outfit was awesome and fun, a flapper is a great costume if you ask me. I borrowed it from Debra, who made it out of the remnants of a wizard costume actually. My only problem with it was that my tights were loose, so I spent 75% of the night hitching them up. It’s always something with me.

To the people who don’t go out or don’t dress up on Halloween – just do a little something, I swear you will have fun even if you don’t leave your house. And you’ll have something to add to your happy memories file.

Kyla came to visit me for her birthday and just left yesterday, and now I’m sad. To cheer myself up, I’ll tell you what we all did.

Saturday: I picked her up at the airport around 11 in jogging pants and Medusa hair. We went out for brunch at Lou’s City Bar in Columbia Heights. Then we went back to my place and took a nap cos she’d been up since 3:30 that morning. We got up, got ready, and went to my friend Megan’s for a birthday party for her dog. She even made him a cake! I tried a bite of the dog cake and it wasn’t half bad, it was like sugarless carrot cake with peanut butter on top. Yes, the dogs had party hats, yes, they ate cake off the floor, and yes, there were cocktails for the humans.

After the party, we all went out for dinner at a place that had $1 strawberry margaritas. How is that even possible? Then the diehards (me, Kyla, and Zakia) went out barhopping in Adams Morgan. The first stop was the Leaky Faucet, a bar that continuously changes owners and names, but never stops being divey. They had such a great crowd, but proceeded to clear the place out in about 10 minutes flat by playing the weirdest mix of undanceable music you can imagine. So we hopped next door to The Reef, which has always been a favorite of mine, especially the downstairs. It’s decorated like under the sea, or maybe a cave, it has foliage and wood and vines everywhere. They were playing reggae, it was good. But then we left and went to Grand Central. We hollered and goofed off on the dance floor. Then we went to Tom Tom but left again right away. After trundling back to the Leaky Faucet for one last $10 pitcher, it was time for a jumbo slice of pizza and a cab home.

Sunday: I’m not going to lie – this wasn’t the best morning of my life. Staying in bed until 2 or 3 PM sounded good. But I had tickets to the White House Garden Tour for 11:30 that morning, and by god, we were not going to miss it. Off we went, parking was a fricken nightmare so we parked in a garage, and then toured around the White House yard. Not very impressive. It reminded me of a golf course and I hate those things. But I’m glad we went. Then we had lunch at Old Ebbitt’s (of course), did some shopping downtown, and then went home and cooked ourselves chili and cornbread for dinner. The cornbread was cooked in the cast iron skillet, by the way. We watched a movie, Bounce. One of the worst movies I’ve ever seen. Why is Ben Affleck such a mouth breather? It’s awkward to watch.

Monday: I got up and made an omelet for Kyla and leftover chili for myself. We rented Capital Bikeshare bikes and rode the Rock Creek Parkway trail down to the Mall, past the Lincoln Memorial. We stopped to check out the new Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, too. After we dropped off the bikes, we went through the permanent exhibit at the Holocaust Museum. Neither of us had ever seen it. It was a lot to take and seemed to go on forever, so we didn’t linger super long for probably the last 25% of it. It’s just overwhelming. I felt like I was going to cry the entire time. It’s good though – if you get a chance, do go. I might post more about that in a couple days. Monday night we went out for Indian food in Adams Morgan and then came home and watched the movie Big Fish.

Tuesday: We made crepes and cappuccinos for breakfast on Tuesday. They were so good. I made them when Christina came to visit, too. They’re fun to make with friends. My favorite topping is a little butter, sprinkle some sugar, and squeeze some lemon juice on them. Yum. Then we drove down to Georgetown to do a little shopping, and in Cusp Kyla found a pair of jeans she just loved for like 65% off. We also had some finds at Banana Republic and H&M. Then we met up with Maureen for wings and drinks on special at Lucky Bar in Dupont, then raced home to let the dog out before our movie in Chinatown. We went to Dream House. It was ok, but pretty predictable, sadly. So we came home and watched the Sixth Sense, which did a similar premise SO much better.

Wednesday: Kyla and Wyatt’s birthday! I made us breakfast sandwiches and gave Kyla her birthday present. It was almost time to go, though, so I was sad. After I dropped her off at the airport, I slept for hours. That visit tuckered me out. Then I sat alone in my apartment and got sad she was gone while it poured rain outside.

My dad was talking to a neighbor about an upcoming wedding in my hometown.

“That bride is very lucky, you know. I’m almost surprised this even happened,” the neighbor says.

“How’s that?”

“Well, Greg – she’s 31 years old!”

My dad just laughed. I told him he should have told her a story about his daughters…

The alarm goes off, sometimes I get up, mostly I hit snooze for half an hour. Which means no time for a shower for the god-knowsth day in a row.

I walk the dog, never less than half an hour. He deserves it, he has to sit in a basement with no window to look out all day every day.

I go to work. Sometimes I walk, sometimes I bike, sometimes I bus, lately I’ve been driving. When I drive, I park at a meter that costs $2 an hour.

I sit at my desk, in my own office, on the 10th floor of a downtown office building. It’s a nice, big office that I probably don’t deserve.

I go home for lunch and to walk my dog. This time, he doesn’t get as much of a walk, what we do is go to the apartment complex next door. They have a picnic area and a fenced in yard, so I let him wander around there for awhile. Again, about half an hour, sometimes more, sometimes less. I always get at least 10 bug bites at lunch time. I don’t know what kind of mosquito breeding ground they’ve got going on over there, but I bet it’s where the DC West Nile virus is going to start.

I take the bus back to work for the afternoon. It’s too expensive to park my car downtown all day.

I work at my desk some more, usually eating candy while I do so. I always have candy and cookies in my desk, and sometimes chips, but they go faster. I drink lots of coffee, pop, and sparkling water. We pay $6 a month from our paychecks for the drinks and can have as much as we want.

I go home. Some days, if I’ve taken a late lunch, I’ll go out for happy hour first, but it’s pretty rare. I once again leash up the dog, and this time we go to the dog park for about an hour. When I’m feeling social, I chit chat with the other people there. When I’m not, I’ll bring a book and sit on a picnic table with my back to everyone else and read. You can likely guess which one I do more often.

I get home from the dog park and think about dinner. It’s almost always something really heavy, either food I order or pasta or nachos or something. Then I’m tired and lay on the couch and watch TV or read for a few hours. Sometimes I doze off, I’ll even set my alarm for 12:30 or 1 AM so I don’t make the dog wait too long to go out again before bed. He gets a super short walk, then we both come in, turn all the lights off except the closet one, and go to bed.

And then I get up the next day and do it all again.

When I was visiting Christina and Christoph back in June, I got to go rummage saling with Christina and her mom and her brother’s girlfriend. At first I was a little leery, cos those things can have nothing but waxy old candle holders and Christmas snow globes if you’re not careful, but this venture was a dream. I got the following items for rock bottom prices:

A brand new Juiceman juicer ($5)
A brand new coffee grinder (can’t remember, but cheap, maybe $5)
A cast iron skillet ($3)
A new pair of Airwalk tennis shoes (25¢)
And maybe more that I can’t remember.

I was on cloud fricken 9. I love kitchen appliances and you can’t beat getting them that cheap. I just started using the skillet because I was so worried about seasoning it. It had some rust spots so I scoured them off with steel wool, washed it with dish soap and hot water, and then looked up how to season it. Apparently you just smear it with oil and bake it on a really low heat for an hour or two. So that’s what I did, and so far, it seems pretty good.

The weird thing about them is that you’re not supposed to wash them with soap (although the jury still seems to be a little out on that one). You can just warm up some oil in them, put a bunch of salt in, and scour the salt around with a wad of paper towels. Then rinse the whole thing out and let it dry on a low burner for a couple seconds. Rub it with a tiny bit more oil if you think it needs it, and that’s it. I’ll admit it seems kind of gross to clean something like that, but I remember watching a show once where poor people in India washed their pots and pans with sand, so I guess it’s not unheard of. Just try not to sneeze on it.

Anyway, I’m excited to try it out with a recipe that starts on the stovetop and then has to go in the oven to bake in the same pan. That’s pretty much why I wanted a cast iron skillet in the first place.

The United States has been at work in Afghanistan for ten years today. Does it feel like it? When you read about wars in history books (cos let’s face it, the history we learn, at least in high school, is mostly the history of wars), is this how you imagined it feeling? Do you feel more stressed? Under attack? Afraid of losing? Anything at all? Have we been in it so long it’s hard to remember what it felt like to not be at war?

As for me, no, it doesn’t feel like I thought it would feel. I remember learning about the Civil War, where it seems like every family had someone in it, sometimes cousins fighting cousins or even brothers fighting brothers, and it was all fought in the United States, so war could be in your back yard. World War I, that seemed like it was pretty all-consuming, and especially WWII, where people had to have victory gardens and ration their rubber tires and couldn’t even buy nylon stockings at certain points because all the nylon was used in the war effort. And it seems to me, at least from this distance, that Vietnam pretty much defined a whole generation.

I have not felt deprivation in goods so more can go to the war effort. Nobody wants my old tires, and nobody even knows how to plant a garden anymore (although hipsters are eyeing it with interest). I mean ration cards, can you imagine? I do know people in Afghanistan – shout out to Mindy’s husband, Jason – but nobody not already in the military worries about being drafted and the vets that come home don’t go around shouting their stories from the rooftops, so I don’t really know what’s going on over there. I don’t say any of this to be insulting, I’m just trying to be honest. The war doesn’t seem to be touching the average American very much.

I would be very interested in your thoughts and how having your country at war has affected you/made you feel…

I was reading Carolyn Hax (I LOVE her, by the way) and someone recently wrote in saying her husband, who had agreed to go every other weekend doing the household chores, had stopped taking his turn. Carolyn said not to do the work for him, but hand him the mop and say, “It’s your turn, unless you’d like to hire a maid out of your own money.” But what if he really was a messy pig and wouldn’t do it, but couldn’t afford a cleaning service? Does the fact that he just plain won’t help mean he’s disrespecting her and they are simply not a good couple?

It seems like such a small thing, I mean who breaks up over vacuuming? But if he knows it’s only fair to do his half and won’t do it even though it REALLY bothers his significant other, then maybe they’re not good together. I am a total slob, but if you love and respect someone and want them to be happy and comfortable in their own home, you do your fair share to keep it reasonably tidy. A tidy house isn’t a lot to ask; it’s not an unreasonable request. If you can’t be bothered, you just hate cleaning or whatever, then admit to yourself that you don’t care all that much if the other person is happy. Cos that’s what it comes down to.

It really does wax and wane. Sometimes I want to hug someone and just weep because of how wonderful they are, and sometimes I just want them to shut up and leave me alone. Perhaps I don’t have the personality for unconditional love. Oh well.

I just recently heard about Troy Davis, the man who was executed in Georgia last night. I don’t agree with the death penalty, not least because I think it’s hard to always be 100% sure of someone’s guilt or innocence (both of which are kind of illusory, shifting concepts anyway), but because how do you punish someone for killing by turning around and doing the exact same thing to them? You are no better than they are, and that’s a damn fact.

I saw this quote from Confucius on a TV show and thought it summed up my sentiments pretty well: “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” We are all culpable when someone is killed in the name of the state, and ultimately we all pay the price because of the damage we do to our own humanity.

The legal ins and outs of Troy’s case got my hackles up, there’s no denying that (I even went to a protest in support of him/against the death penalty here in DC a couple of days ago, I felt so strongly). But what touched my heart and made it so real to me was the bit I read about him refusing a final meal. They asked him what he wanted and he wouldn’t choose because didn’t want to give up hope. So they made him cheeseburgers, cole slaw, and grape juice. They made him cheeseburgers for dinner and then KILLED HIM. He was laying on the table, defenseless, and they killed him.

Dig a little and you’ll find that the death penalty is racist, classist, and inhumane. I hate that our country still practices something so barbaric.

If you’ve ever thought about no longer eating meat, you’ve probably done some internet searches about the health effects. You really can’t help but come across all these real-life testimonials from people talking about how their hair was shinier, their skin was clearer, they lost weight, slept better, had more energy, a better sex life, fantastic mood, higher concentration, and all-around became superhuman as a result of cutting out meat.

I’m here to tell you about my experience. I:

- gained weight
- remained crabby
- possibly had even less energy
- got tons more wrinkles
- my hair might be more brittle

HOWEVER, I don’t get strep and colds like I used to. That might be lifestyle change, though – I don’t go out partying four nights a week anymore.