A few weeks ago someone took to Facebook strongly criticizing northern Virginia and Washington, DC. Apparently, Baltimore is superior. I won't argue against the charms of Charm City, which I happen to adore myself, but I got thinking about how much I really love DC and Arlington. My husband is tired of hearing me tell him how I privately vowed to myself on a 6th grade family field trip to a museum (which I hated!) that one day I would live in the glamorous national capital. As I grew older I began to see that might be unrealistic, and I dropped the matter. Through no searching of my own, a job opportunity landed in my lap and I've been living and working in Arlington since 2011. Loving every minute! I love walking wherever I want to go. I love all the runners and bikers -- and bike share! I love the sports bars and the way little villages of restaurants and shops sprout up around popular metro destinations. I love DC sports teams. I love how generous the wealthy can be. I love the ethnic restaurants and the myriad food trucks. I love the FREE museums (now!), and endless free cultural experiences in DC. I love going running through the monuments and admiring the architecture. I adore the crazy hundreds who play in kickball rec leagues on the Mall. I love the craft beer scene, the street festivals, and the fact that I can score a quick Guinness after a 10-mile training run. I love, more than anything, the amazing friends I have made living here, and that I met my husband here, and that he proposed to me with the backdrop of the Washington Monument and the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler. I love the cherry blossom trees! Peddle boats! Crazy tourists! Hot dogs! 4th of July. Chinatown. Every village in Arlington. Fro yo. Access. I love the controversy and the energy and the thousands of genuine people for every one politician. I love that Children's is where my precious baby nephew's life was saved. The place feels like home, and that's one thing I've not regularly been able to say about anywhere.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Place & Time -or- A Memory and A Place
I grew up viewing the coffee shop and the bookstore as the two ultimate destinations in life. I usually looked forward to going to the bookstore to admire all the different types of blank books or journals I could lay hands on. I'll never forget my first blank book -- it was covered in 90s faux denim. The pages were lined. I wrote about everything that came to my funny, prepubescent mind and I loved it. I used it when we moved across country via mini van. Im still addicted to the blank book. Until high school I didn't like coffee, so I would drink tea whenever I had the privilege of visiting the coffee shops with my dad. Back then Starbucks had the Tazoberry frappuccino. Back then I was too little to know that the whipped cream on top was more than half the calories, and I had no idea what an annoying drink I was asking the baristas to make me. I was just a little girl enjoying Daddy time. Now I've worked in a coffee shop for years at a stretch, and I still go back as often as I can, both to chains and independents. It keeps me connected to my roots, to my dad, and to some of my dearest childhood memories.