Late Night Distractions and Silliness

Ages pass and eons wane,

And from above the world does fade,

We speak of war, religion, trade

But only one strong truth remains.

It’s more than just a gentle touch,

A stolen kiss or long-lost love

It speaks to souls with little worth

But for one life these souls did touch.

And one may be another myth,

Another story, another rift,

But, who knows, but that the world would fail

The skies would fall, the clouds would hail

With one last dying puff

Should we lose our universal trust. 

Well, perhaps this melodrama isn’t apt,

But every lasting hope and dream

Song and movie still unseen

Carries with it a signet of love.

MetroBoy Part II

Maybe it's simply that the best things happen from the oddest beginnings, but I might have to start calling MetroBoy Mr. Perfect.  But that's getting a bit ahead of myself.  

Pumpkin carving was a blast.  So, fortunately, having two fabulous big strong male roommates, I felt comfortable enough inviting MetroBoy over to my place even though I'd only met him for the few short minutes on the metro.  

He came over, and we sat on the porch and talked while carving pumpkins.  We got to know each other, and MetroBoy is incredibly smart, hilarious, adorable, kind and super hot.  He even got his MBA from one of the Ivy Leagues.  Who would've thought.  We drank with the roomies, went for a walk, and when we came back, my roomie's girlfriend, let's call her Eagle, had found a dog outside and brought it home.  So, MetroBoy and I went walking around the neighborhood posting fliers for the dog.  It was late in the evening and Eagle had planned on taking the dog home and posting fliers the next morning, but MetroBoy was worried that whoever had lost their dog would be worried overnight and thought we should post a few fliers sooner. 

MetroBoy spent the night; no, we did not do the nasty, but, more importantly, I found a cuddler!  

The following day, a Sunday, he called me at 8:30 in the morning, and we decided to meet up and study.  He had to prepare for an interview the next day for a better position in his company.  So we met at Metro Center and walked around for a while, stumbling across one of the best coffee shops in D.C.  

The woman who owns the coffee shop and her husband were absolutely adorable and we ended up chatting with the two of them for probably 15 or more minutes.  They were wonderful and the dessert that MetroBoy bought was as well.  After studying (and catching him watching me study a few times) we explored some of the sights of D.C. that I had yet to check out.  It was really just a wonderful time.  

So, MetroBoy called on Monday and then on Tuesday (he'd invited me to take a salsa dancing class with him, but I was too busy with schoolwork) he was in my area and convinced me to let him come over for "20 minutes," and then I could finish my homework.  It certainly wasn't 20 minutes, and needless to say, I wasn't very prepared for my classes the next day.  But it was fun.  So, we've by the time Friday rolls around, we're talking or communicating by email / texts quite a few times a day, and we were chatting on the phone and he let slip, without really being aware of it, the words "my girlfriend."  

We hung out yesterday - we went to a bookstore and then my other roomie's girlfriend's bday party at the Madhatter bar in DuPont - and he referred to us first hanging out as a couple weeks ago.  It was actually last week.  So, we've went on our first date one week and two days ago, and things are going faster than they ever have with anyone else.  

But for the first time, it doesn't scare me at all.  If anyone before him had ever called me - intentionally or not - his girlfriend after less than a week, I'd have been up and running faster than you could say "I don't think so."  But for some reason, this one's different.  I feel like I'm floating on water when I'm with him, for the first time in my life I don't mind PDA, and I'm just legitimately 100% happy all the time.  

I feel like I've entered the life of someone else.  That I've become one of those sappy love-struck fools that make me gag.  But I don't really care.  

And, I no longer miss the boy who made my heart ache in Oregon, let's call him Cobarde; he's all but a distant memory, a fading thought from just over a week ago.  

I can't wait till the next chapter of Mr. Perfect and I.  

MetroBoy Part I

So ... I was bored.  Boredom is a very dangerous state for me.  I always either read on the metro or listen to songs and imagine that I’m belting out the lyrics at the top of my lungs in public.  However, on this particular occasion, not only was I on my way to a party and, thus, was amped up to start the night at a high pace .... but I was also accompanied by my bike.  Having my bike with me on the metro, necessitates the use of both hands to keep it upright, so I can’t read or distract myself as I am usually apt to do. 

Waiting for my transfer metro, in order to alleviate my boredom, my eye started to wander looking for a hapless victim to strike up a conversation with.  As a background note, it is not really socially acceptable to drag someone into a conversation on the metro.  D.C. culture would tell us that people on the metro like to go about their way minding their own business without being accosted by random creepers like myself.  Social norms, however, have never stood in my way.  

So, I sat down next to this guy who was waiting for the same metro train as I was.  Like me, he also had a bike on him.  I introduced myself and started talking.  I found out he's a Californian and had just gotten back from a bike ride.  I thought we hit it off pretty well.  But the train came, and because we both had bikes, we couldn't sit near each other without being an annoyance to the other people on the train.  So we boarded opposite ends.  

So I was sitting on the train ... bored, again with nothing to read or distract myself from the immensely long 10 minute ride.  I kept sneaking glances at MetroBoy on the other end of the car.  My thoughts went as follows: Fuck it.  I'll never see him again anyways and ... well, being creepy sounds like the entertaining thing to do.  So, I got off at my stop, parked by bike right outside, ran up to the front door of the car where he was, pulled out my card and told him to, "Let me know if [he] ever want[s] to hang out with a fellow Californian."  I was rushing because the metro doors were about to close ... as a matter of fact, I was pretty sure the metro conductor left them open longer for me.  I, later, found out that this was the case.  

So of course, I'm a psycho and I was almost entirely sure that I would never hear from MetroBoy because ... well ... as hot and awesome as I am ... who does that?  I probably would've scared myself off.  But, the next day, I got an email from him asking me if I wanted to get together and explore DC with him.  Also cute, the subject line was "The boy from the metro!" and he wrote a post script: "I hope this email was exciting enough to justify the use of the exclamation in the subject line."

We further conversed, and he suggested either checking out some of the museums or bike trails OR carving Halloween pumpkins!  How awesome is that!  

The pumpkin carving actually occurred last night, but because I have homework and outlining to do, I will continue the story in Part II.  

By the way, I'm going to go back and add pictures to these entries at some point.

I'm on a bike! Take a long hard look at the motherf*in' bike!

As nice an experience as it has been not really needing a car in D.C., I was missing my mobility very much.  Without a car, a shopping trip two metro stops away can easily turn into an all day activity.  Last weekend, needing food and other necessities, I decided to go to Target, Trader Joe’s, and some other stores.  However, I couldn’t very well carry everything I bought, so I brought an empty suitcase with me and proceeded to fill it to the brim with random items that I probably shouldn’t have bought in the first place.  So I’m dragging my suitcase all around this residential area, and all of a sudden, the suitcase stops rolling.  So I lay the suitcase down and look at the wheels and get a large whiff of burning rubber.  Not only are the wheels scrapped up and burning because they’re being dragged along, but they’re also completely cracked. 

Fortunately for me, last semester, I had the exact same thing happen to me.  On that occasion, I tried to drag the heavy suitcase a good five blocks or so before collapsing in a heap close to tears and calling a friend, let’s say Sally, to pick me up.  By the time she picked me up I had figured out that if I took the rubber off of the wheels, I could get the luggage to drag as a VERY temporary solution.  So, armed with my knowledge gained from pain and suffering, I tore off the rubber from the wheels of my suitcase and I was left with somewhat workable wheels.  Note: this is the third suitcase I’ve destroyed in less than a year. 

So, I had had enough and desperately needed a bike.  Luck was with me, and there was a bike locked up to the back of our house that the landlady said had been abandoned there for over a year.  She told me that I was welcome to the bike if I could find a way to free it from its lock. 

I went to a bike shop looking for advice as to how to free the damn bike, and I tried to explain the situation to a man who worked there.  He looked at me suspiciously and said, “you do realize that what you’re asking me is comparable to someone asking how to hotwire a car?”

Well, yes, of course I realized this.  I certainly wouldn’t have come to you with this question if I WAS in the bike theft market.  I was trying to find the most legit way to go about this.  No need to be a jerk!  What I actually asked was what suggestions he could offer.  He told me to go to the police.  So, I went on another trip, to another metro stop and went to the police department.  And what did the officers tell me to do?  Go get a bolt cutter!  So, I had to go back to the stop where the bike shop was at to go to ACE Hardware. 

Renting the bolt cutter, especially for the explicit purpose of cutting a bike lock (even though it wasn’t stealing, and I was simply claiming abandoned property with the consent of my landlady whose property the bike was on) made me feel incredibly awkward.  Then, the bolt cutter the guy pulled out was ... FIVE FEET LONG and super heavy!  So, I got onto the metro with this unwieldy bolt cutter trying to be inconspicuous but to no avail.  

(I looked like this except with longer hair.  Yes, I was wearing overalls and a plaid shirt.)

Everyone in the metro blatantly starred at me, and, because it was during rush hour, I tried desperately not to fall over on top of someone whilst carrying two big bags and a huge bolt cutter.   

But, I now have a bike!  Getting on the bike, I was so excited that I started singing "I'm on a Boat" in my head, but replacing boat with bike.  

Welcome!

My decision to start a blog goes something like this: while procrastinating and wasting time, I came across a link to a blog post on hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. It’s fabulous, and you should definitely check it out. 

Over the course of reading a few posts, I began to think: wow, all of these things sound like something I would do. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve done stupider things. Furthermore, most of these events resulted in hilarity for everyone except, maybe, for me. While being intentionally funny really isn't my area of expertise, I’ve been known to amuse others while making an ass of myself and/or getting into absurd shenanigans. Besides, it’s a good way to keep in touch with my friends back on the Best Coast. 

To begin with, I am a full-blooded Californian who transferred to Washington D.C. a couple months ago to finish up grad school. Being single and new to DC, I’ve been keeping myself entertained (on the rare occasions I’m not doing school work) by dating and trying to get to know D.C.

I will probably use this forum to tell ridiculous stories of my life, engage in feminist rants, and ramble about my rapidly oscillating views of dating and relationships.