The life of a recent college graduate

Last night as we were driving from my Alma mater in PA back to DC, my friend noted that since graduating and starting our "real" jobs, we no longer have major time points to look forward to, like summer and winter break. Life in the working world is in continual motion with little or no scheduled breaks, especially during the first year on the job (when vacation time is typically earned and very sparse - which makes creating your own breaks rather difficult but not impossible). It's not like it's necessarily a bad thing. It just takes a little getting use to after 17 years of summer vacations.

To quote Loverboy, "Everybody's working for the weekend." Thank God for the weekends!

If I could look like anyone...

...I'd want to look like Audrey Hepburn. Maybe with her classic face, sly smile and graceful features, I too could knoodle with dashing men in Tiffany's or Rome. O well, a girl can dream can't she?

Today turned out to be a wonderfully unplanned day. I'll never stop being a tourist in this city, and if I ever do, then I'll know it's time to move on.

Oh, and another thing. I learned that it's not all that bad wandering around solo in a big city. I'd prefer to be with friends or family, But there's something refreshing about being able to just explore and observe as you wish. I took myself to the theatre to see Cats. I haven't seen a performance since December (and I've never seen Cats), and I was drawn to the Warner when I saw what was on the marquee. It's not my favorite ALW musical, but it was enjoyably different from any show I've seen before. Overall, a delightful day in DC with a book, a camera and a theatrical performance.

Everytime we go to the grocery store...

...my roommates and I comment on the security warning on the shopping carts. Apparently, if you were decide to take your shopping cart home with you and all of your wonderful purchases, at some designated point the wheels will lock and the cart will not longer move. An ingenious idea if I do say so myself. But we always wonder if it really happens or if the warning is an empty threat meant to intimidate shoppers from walking off with their carts. Is there an invisible marker or fence (like the kind used for dogs) that sends a signal to the carts to lock? If so, where is it? If I parked my car at the other end of the shopping complex would I be able to cart my groceries there? Does this theft prevention system work by location or distance?

My roommates and I agree that we would love for someone to test this warning by running full speed with a shopping cart away from the store. Would the wheels lock causing them the fly forward head first into the cart? Could they pop a wheelie and ride on the back two tires and get by without trouble?

We may never. Our desire to know isn't strong enough to lead us to action. O well. A mystery that will remain a mystery.

Daydreaming in the Underground

Yesterday evening as I was walking from the metro after a lovely happy hour at a new bar (that was offering complementary Guinness and Harp samples that I could not partake in because of my Lenten fast on beer, hmm...), I noticed how empty the CC underground was. This lack of people gave me the chance to see the passageway in a new light. As I turned the corner by the mural with the pink and purple garden chairs and began to walk down the long straightaway that ends at the au bon pain, there wasn't a soul in sight. At that moment, I wished I had two things: 1. a rolling desk chair & 2. a friend to give me a big push.

A note to overzealous metro riders....

...Chill out.

Let me put my feelings into words.
On they way home from work, I found a seat on the asile in the second row. I was pretty exhausted from a very busy day at work and a little drained after giving blood (lame pun, I know). As the train was traveling under the Potomac on it's way to Rosslyn the gentleman next to me decides that it's time to get ready to get off. Okay. I get up, but can't really move since there are people standing in the asile holding onto the rails on the seats around me. But this guy is pretty determined to get to the doors. With no where else to go, I decide to go with the current and I find myself beyond the first row of seats - of course out of reach of any bars or poles. All the while the train is still moving - which means when this guy finally reached the door he had to wait until we stopped and the doors opened. Way to go buddy. You made it! God forbid the train doors close with you still in it.

So I turn to squeeze my way back into my seat and a young woman, about my age has grabbed the window seat. No problem. I'm on the asile. I have a seat, and I can close my eyes and relax. I'm spent.

A few moments after the doors close at Arlington Cemetary my seat buddy decides it's time for her to get up and get ready to exit the moving train. Once again I get up, but this time I just grab onto the handle on the seat directly across from me. I'm tired, dizzy and can't understand why she couldn't just wait until the train stopped. It's a simple obvious fact: There's no where to go when the train is moving (and it's rush hour). When the train has stopped, and the doors are open there's more room for movement. It seems like a simple concept. When a train is full and people have no where to go, there's no room for you to squeeze into not matter how nicely you say "Excuse me."

Wait until the train has stopped. People are more willing to let you pass because they feel more comfortable letting go of the poles. It will be easier. I promise.