Look Up And Just To The Left

No No. Too Far. That's your lamp. I mean on this web page. I've just added a links page! My friends are much much more talented than me, so you should look at their stuff and support their work. As I continue to gather more of their websites, the page will continue to be updated, so check back often.

Also, stay tuned for some exciting news in the wide wide writing world of Sioux Falls. To Be Announced.

Read This Book

Lenny Bruce Is Not Afraid!

Maybe he’s not a human. Maybe he’s some sort of Angelic cyborg. This is the only logical conclusion I can come to about Harold Camping. It’s either that, or you know, he’s wrong. And people are wrong all the time, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about that, so let’s go with the angelic cyborg thing, because that’s just more fun. And if he is an angelic cyborg, than he can be excused from the whole, “No one knows the day,” verse found all over Scripture, as that seems pretty directed toward the humans. It says nothing about an angelic cyborg not knowing the day. So, perhaps Harold “Angelic Cyborg” Camping really does know the date of the end of the world, and I should stop writing this, leave my job, and go sing “Kumbaya” with my family until the earth shakes, the house falls down, and we find ourselves on fluffy white clouds making our way up to heaven. Because, that’s biblical you know, fluffy white clouds and heaven being “up.”

No…no wait. I think I might be thinking about a Pixar movie. And that was balloons, not clouds, so I guess we’re all sorts of confused.

But anyway, there are always going to be quacks out there who claim to know things about the end of the world, the day of the rapture, and answers to other "theological" questions. And quite frankly, it's fun to mock them, mostly because it's so damn easy. But, realistically, I suppose that's not the right thing to do, what with the whole loving one's enemies thing. Mockery probably falls a little short of love, enemy or not. So...well...um...what happens when you really have no plans to stop something you know is wrong? Because,  to be honest...I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep mocking this May 21st Rapture business. 

But on the other hand, this whole craziness has got me thinking. The world is most likely not going to end tonight. But it could. Why not? It could end tomorrow just as easily. Volatile nations could start setting off nukes at any moment. Or you or I could just die driving to the grocery store. What it comes down to really, is  we just never know what each day is going to bring.  It's so easy to take life for granted, when it's much too fragile to do so. So tell your friends and family that you love them. Tell them how much they mean to you, not because the world is going to go up in smoke, but simply because one of them might not be here tomorrow. No one knows the day or the hour...of anything really. Life is precious. Love your people...and some other ones too. 

Good luck surviving this apocalypse known as life. I'll see ya'll round the bend. Love to all. <3

An Evolutionary Soundtrack for the Apocalypse

So, via Studio 360 I have discovered that hipster magazine, L.A. Record is collecting soundtracks to the apocalypse (happening already tomorrow, you know!) from its readers. Here is my list. You may notice an evolutionary story unfolding from it, seeing as how if this actually is the apocalypse, we should move from mockery and despair to hope. Um...I'm kinda of betting on being around on Sunday, though. (Actually, I'm thinking that if I'm around on Sunday, the only song necessary will be American Idiot, by Green Day. That Camping fellow is American, yes?) Comment with the songs you would play!

1. Auto Rock-Mogwai (Because you need an epic intro)
2. It’s The End Of The World As We Know It-REM (Obvious, isn't it?)
3. The Angel of Death Came to David’s Room-mewithoutYou
4. Apocalypse Now- Squad Five-0 (This song is impossible to find on the net. Apparently it didn't survive to the technological age. How very punk rock of it.)
5. Hard Rock Hallelujah-Lordi (It's the aROCKalypse!)
6. I Think I’m Going To Hell-My Morning Jacket
7. The Battle of Evermore-Led Zeppelin
8. Goodbye, Cruel World-Pink Floyd
9. Greet Death-Explosions in the Sky
10. Death Will Never Conquer-Coldplay
11. Are You The One I’ve Been Waiting For?-Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
12. Come All Ye Weary-Thrice
13. Blackbird-The Beatles
14. When The Man Comes Around-Johnny Cash
15. Sorrow-Bad Religion (Jon Foreman of Switchfoot does a nice version as well.)
16. Here Comes The Sun-The Beatles
17. Daylight-Brave Saint Saturn (This generally stands as my all time favorite song.)
18. Where The Streets Have No Name-U2
19. Glosoli-Sigur Ros (Because I imaging just standing in awe upon arrival)
20. Amazing Grace-Dropkick Murphys (Because after the awe wears off a bit, you realize it's a party and if Heaven's a party, I picture it more like this than harps and togas)

Or just click here for the whole youtube playlist. Enjoy your remaining hours on earth. Catch ya'll...you know, wherever.

Headline: Ignore the Smoke! Focus On Your Family!

If I ever get to write for The Onion, it would read something like this. It should be known that the "detrimental issues," mentioned in the following story were in fact taken straight from the parenting forum on the Focus on the Family website.


In a recent merger of children’s megastore Kids We B and Colorado based Focus on the Family, the company is pleased to announce The Focomatic 1955; the first in a line of what’s expected to be highly profitable products allowing parents to literally do nothing  but focus on their families. Shaped much like the 3D viewfinders made popular by children growing up in the 1980’s, by holding the device up to their faces and peering through the cross-shaped optical holes, parents are able to see their children at all times, no matter the location, near or far, night or day.

“It really is a fantastic invention,” says Donald S. Windle, new CEO of the recently merged companies, now known singly as We B Family Inc. Despite sirens raging down the street to extinguish the fire at the Ragtag Homeless Shelter, Windle was gracious enough to take the time to meet with this reporter at his downtown Colorado Springs office.  “We’re very excited about what this could mean for maintaining the spiritual well-being of those most likely to go astray.” Windle begins. He speaks animatedly regarding his company’s new invention. “You know, teenagers and gays and what not. We believe that constant supervision will lead to earlier intervention and thus the thwarting of detrimental issues such boys wearing girls’ clothes, boys and girls wearing earrings sized larger than normal, 17 year olds who want to go to prom or watch the Grammys, or the music of that M and M fellow. You can’t be too careful, you know? These kids are our future! We need to dictate their every move so they don’t end up seriously backsliding and doing something like falling hopelessly in love with someone their same gender who then sign up to adopt unwanted Haitian orphans with special needs. It ends up being a trickledown effect, if you think about it. Not only are teenagers rescued from the harrows of hell, but those orphans are rescued from the horrors of….well, whatever sort of life, if you could call it that, they would have with those people. You can see then, how vital our product becomes.”

The Focomatic 1955 is slated to hit shelves nationwide in a few weeks, but Windle affirms that they have already had countless calls regarding the device, along with the optional earpiece allowing parents to hear every word spoken by their child and surrounding friends, again no matter place or time.  “We’ve had to create a million more apparatuses than expected,” Windle boasts.  “Stores are already issuing rain checks for a product that hasn’t even been released.”

It is rumored that due out early next year is the BuzzWord, a device which will actually allow parents to physically intervene from distances up to three miles. “Now, I can’t say too much,” begins Windle, “but little Timmy will be quite shocked,” Windle pauses here and gives a sly wink and smirks, “when he realizes how powerfully bad those negative Nancy words can be. You know, those ones that generally have four letters? You can bet his language will soon be as clean as a preacher’s pulpit. I probably shouldn’t say too much more about that. We’ve still got to work things out with the Legal department on that one.”

Regarding the expected large profit margin, Windle waves his hands dismissively. “ We've got some ideas up our sleeves.”  Enhancing the Focomatic and BuzzWord, the development of new and more advanced devices, and potentially a brand new retreat center on the Oahu coast, to name a few.  When questioned about the latter, Windle responds, “We want to make sure our staff members are properly rested so as to avoid burnout. It’s a hard job, saving American families. It wears on a person.”

No Haitian orphans, then?

“Oh, heaven’s no!” Windle exclaims. “God’ll take care of them!”

Waves (Or, The Day I Saw God)

The following is an essay I wrote a few years ago. I may or may not fix it up. Here it is in first draft format. We'll see if a second draft comes along. 

In 1923, poet William Carlos Williams wrote, “so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow.” Well, pardon the thievery, Mr. Williams,  but I must insist, that in fact, so much depends upon the ocean. Until last year, I’d forgotten how big the ocean is. It sounds a silly thing to say, I know. Obviously the ocean is gigantic, who forgets that? Though large it is, it is the vastness that makes me stand in awe. It is here, gazing upon the ocean, mouth agape at its awesomeness, that one stares into the face of an entity infinitely bigger than the self. Together, here, on the shore of the sea, Christians, Atheists, Agnostics, and others find a commonality in the immensity of such a sight. Though perhaps others experience different, I saw God at the Ocean.

I awoke in the apartment that was still quite foreign to me, in a city I couldn’t yet tell would be home. Shifting on the futon my hosts had so graciously allowed me for the week, I stared at the grey hovering masses of mist and cloud passing the window, wondering what I might do with my time that bleak Sunday morning. The previous Sunday morning found me snug in the bed of the wicker room, while my grandmother busily placed the Christmas decorations back in what would be their cardboard homes for the next 12 months. Just weeks prior to that, my college diploma was plopped in my hands, my roommates had moved on, and the end of an era came crashing down around me.

Not more than a month earlier, I was to be found sitting at a desk three times a week studying the book of Genesis. Being in so much contact with Abraham at the end of an era is a precarious thing when you’re the owner of a restless heart, or you’ve just quit your job, and have nearly everything you own in your car. Or all of the above.

So six days after deciding to move to Seattle and three days after arriving there, I listened to the hum of the city below me. Seeing as how I couldn’t look for a job or a place to live as it was Sunday, I came up with the only logical solution. I was going to the Ocean. Geography will tell you that Seattle is not situated directly next to the Pacific Ocean. Growing up in a Midwestern landlocked state will tell you that is not important when you’ve just driven 1500 miles. What’s 100 more?

After a lunch at Barbara’s by the Sea, a quaint little café’ overlooking the docks, I pulled my car into a parking lot next to the breaking wall. As I opened my door my ears were greeted by the sound of thunderous waves demanding to know why I hadn’t been to visit in so long. I ran to them as after a long lost love. They were a long lost love, and we had found each other at last. And we embraced.

I stood at the edge of the water, staring into the infinite sea. I waited. At any given moment I would be engulfed, the vastness would overtake me and I would be swept out to sea, forever to be with my beloved. But, alas, the waves landed consistently at my feet, making fall in the same place they had collapsed daily for millennia upon millennia. This would not be the day I would be taken. Today, only my toes would taste its frigid kiss, my nostrils seduced with its cool salty air.

I drew back from the line where water met earth. I pulled my scarf nearer, as the January wind blew in harshly against my face. I found myself entranced by broken sea shells that littered the shore. I felt an affinity for their beautiful brokenness and saw myself in them. I took my place on a piece of driftwood, piled up with thousands of other pieces the ocean had enticed in some far off land and spit out miles away from home. The dull grey sky loomed overhead.

And then, they arrived. Silhouette’s down the shore, making their way toward my ocean. I burned with anger that others would infringe on my interlude with the sea. I’d have cast stones, had my good Midwestern upbringing not thought it impolite. Yet as I sneered, the two silhouettes took their places silently on the sandy shore, assuming the same position I found myself in, gazing at the boundless sea, waiting to be engulfed, swept up by their beloved. Then suddenly, as if granted permission after a silent prayer, a single silhouette strode toward water. His shadowy surfboard hit the waves and he sailed away from the shore. He paddled farther out and my heart chased him, envious of his ability to be joined with the water. As he made his home among the waves, my eyes found their way to his companion, sitting silently on the shore, still, as I was, contemplating the sea. The sky began to send us a mist. Neither of us moved. The sight was too grand. From behind the mist came the setting sun. No bright orb present, but an orange glowing curtain draping itself over us. The radiant mist hung heavily as even the infinite waters were absorbed by the light. What were Moses’ thoughts when God placed him in a cleft and passed by in all his glory? Here sat mortals contemplating the infinite, the infinite then dwarfed by the divine. Surely, this is how Moses saw, nestled in the cleft, eyes upon the ocean of God.

Werewolves, Rockstars, and Wild Flowers

I saw Mogwai on Saturday night. As expected, I stood enraptured, soaking in the beauty of the music and the unison of bobbing heads. While they were playing, I'm guessing because of the magnitude of the show, I wondered if it was a strange fact that I wanted to pick them wild flowers. I decided it wasn't (with the help of some friends, old and new.) The fellows of Mogwai seem to be the sort of chaps that would enjoy some wild flowers in their touring outfit. I could be wrong. They could laugh in the face of those who would bring them flowers. But I don't think they would.
Also, during the show, I decided that if there happens to be a bright and/or white tunnel to whatever happens to be heaven, Mogwai would be playing during the procession. (Sigur Ros would be perhaps an acceptable alternative.) Shortly after thinking this, they played my favorite song from their new album, with the video for the song (which I hadn't yet seen) on the screen above them. The end of the video made me think my decision was correct...and consequently, made me smile and very very happy. Then again, just seeing and attempting to absorb Mogwai made me very very happy. Here is that video. Soak it up.

Favorites

Here are my three favorite photos from my trip. 

You can see the other Baltimore photos here and the other Washington DC photos here.

East Coast Party (With "Geeking Out" Being A Prominent Theme)

In flight blog-Take 2-The Return

 Little fluffy clouds hover below me as I make my departure from the Eastern Sea Board. I have left the great paradox that is Baltimore. The Midwest is on the horizon…or will be anyway, in an insignificant amount of time. Currently flying over…Pennsylvania? West Virginia? Ohio? I need to look at a map, and could, if I once again wasn’t too cheap to pay for in-flight wi-fi. In this ever changing world of quickly developing technology, I wonder what sort of world my kids will live in when they are my age. You know, so they decide to exist. Hey…a map just showed up….on a napkin with my Coke. Looking at it, I’ve decided I must be above Western Pennsylvania.

It certainly was a good trip. I was met by Skye on my birthday(Wednesday) and promptly taken to a delicious Thai dinner, followed up by birthday presents and homemade birthday cake. If anyone wants to watch the first season of Sabrina the TeenageWitch, come on over to my house.Thanks, Skye!
Throughout the trip, I found myself geeking out quite a bit. Last Thursday, I got super nerdily excited when Skye and I found the grave of Edgar Allan Poe. Then I wondered how improper it was to get excited about finding a grave. We decided it’s ok when it’s that of literary superstars. Poe is buried in a small church graveyard just around the corner from the best crab cakes in Baltimore. At least, that’s what the sign says. I’m inclined to believe them. They were delicious, and though my crab cake experience is limited, they were the best I’ve had. Good fries and coleslaw, too.

On our way home from Poe's grave, we saw a sign that said "Poe's house," so we drove around in circles like madwomen for several minutes before finding his former home. Inside, I started a new "collection," you might call it. I've decided when I visit a city or foreign country, I want to buy books written by author's from there. Someday I'll have The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings purchased in Oxford, Harry Potter purchased in Scotland, The Fairytales of Hans Christian Andersen in Denmark, Pippi Longstocking in Sweden....well, you get the idea. Here in Baltimore I began my collection by purchasing 3 Poe books not only in his city, but in his very own home. I'm also guessing this will be the cheapest set I'll get too, as I paid $5 for 3 books. Here is Poe's house.

Crab cakes and poet’s graves were followed by bar tending at an art opening in which Skye had a couple of pieces. Skye’s friend, Jason, was curating, so we volunteered to help out. Drinks were complimentary, so Skye and I spent the evening pretty much pouring wine and opening up cans of Natural Bohemian, which turns out to be the “only-available-in-Maryland-PBR.” When folks found out I was on vacation, they seemed surprised that I was “working,” but I’m so glad that I did! I got a chance to meet and chat with a ton of new people, who all really liked me since I was handing out free drinks. If I hadn’t been behind the bar with no choice but to chat with folks, I most likely would have stood around quietly while strangers looked at art. After the show, several of us went out for drinks and ended the evening gobbling up Korean food. Mmmmm, kimchi.

 Hmmm, it seems I am now flying over a Great Lake. Erie, it turns out. It gives the illusion of international over the ocean flying. 

 

Friday, we fetched Cindy from the airport and headed to Washington DC. Further and more extensive geeking out ensued. We stopped at the Finnish Embassy because, well, I’m me. But also because there was a really great exhibit up that consisted of clothing made of recycled material. (Derelict? :)  Driving down Embassy Row made my giddy. Passing the buildings host to so many cultures and people, with loads of different languages being spoken around me, folks coming and going in the world wide hustle and bustle all on one street….ahh, so good. Following this, we made our way through the city and checked into our hotel. After a lovely walk next to the Potomac, we found ourselves outside of the Holocaust museum. With the happy thought of a sushi dinner to come later, we decided to depress ourselves and go inside. Now, every single museum in DC is worth your time, but you should probably go to this one. It’s hauntingly beautiful and that’s pretty much all I can say about it. Go see it for yourself. 

After being taken down a few notches by the museum, we wandered a few blocks north of the capitol building to find our sushi. It was tasty. The area was full of young folks like myself in nice suits. Washington pages and interns, I imagine. I kept thinking to myself that I was seeing the future congressmen/woman of the US right before my eyes.

With a belly full of rice, vegetables, and raw fish, we made our way back to the hotel to grab the car. We had come to DC in order to check out another art opening, this time for Skye’s friend Andrew (who hung out with us the previous night at Skye’s opening and at the Korean restaurant.) This time we didn’t serve, but simply enjoyed the wine while taking in the art. Good job, Andrew!

After a short bus ride from our hotel to the mall (the one with Lincoln not Old Navy) I drank the most expensive cup of cheap coffee I’ve ever had, then we were Smithsonian bound. Cindy and I hit the Museum of Natural History while Skye headed to the Portrait Gallery. (She goes to the Natural History Museum quite often for work.) Lion and tigers and bears, oh my! Not to mention the giant squid, a replica of Lucy, a mummy, tyrannosaurs Rex and some other dinos, the hope diamonds, a crocheted coral reef, and the coolest animal ever, the duck billed platypus. As well as a bunch of other ridiculously cool stuff.

We met up with Skye after our selected museums and headed to the Museum of the American Indian. This is one of the newer Smithsonians. It’s a beautiful building with the outdoor architecture meant to mimic the landscape that the natives in the Southwest US inhabit. It was full of well done displays depicting the art, history, and even modern lives of the American Indian (both North and South American.)

We then made a short jaunt to the National Conservatory which is just next door to the capitol. With it being a rather rain and chilly day, it was a lovely respite with flowers and plants from around the globe growing in a beautiful glass roofed building. 

After a full day of museuming, gaping, and generally being in awe, we were sure tired. Fortunately, Skye had a fantastic treat in store for us. I squirmed with glee as we sped down a Virginia highway to a DC suburb where the Korean delight known as jimjilbang (sauna/bath house) awaited us.

Ok, to be honest, when I heard that we were going to a “Korean spa,” I had in mind some shimmery and expensive day spa with mud baths, seaweed wraps, and cucumber water. These sorts of places are fantastic, don’t get me wrong. However, they are not the same sort of environment as the beloved jimjilbang. I assumed what we were going to was the basic American day spa with some Asian décor and perhaps some Korean masseuses. I literally did a little skip motion when we walked inside and I was suddenly 7000 miles away. This place was jimjilbang to a Tee. We left our shoes in a small locker in the front room, changed into the pajama thingys given to us by the Ajumma at the desk, and hit the sauna. All of them. Let me explain.

Decades ago, before indoor plumbing was a commonality in Korean homes, families strode on down to the local jimjilbang-basically a public bath house. Men and women go to separate locker rooms with large pools for bathing. I know…it sounds kind of gross. It’s not. There are also usually steam rooms and dry saunas as well as showers. However, before heading to the pools, it’s common (and fun) to meet your friends and loved ones of the opposite sex in the common area. Keep in mind, everyone is wearing the same sort of pajama things. Surrounding the common room are several different sorts of saunas/hot room. My particular favorite is the one where the floor is covered in warm tiny red clay balls which you lay in. Each sauna has a different substance on the walls (and in some cases, as just mentioned, on the floors) which have different health benefits. Essentially, one goes in a particular room, sweats out all her toxins, and then exits the sauna. In the center of the common room, folks sprawl out on wicker mats chit chatting, snacking, cuddling, what have you. There is also a little café where smoothies and  Korean dishes such as kimbap, bibimbap, and my personal favorite, kimchibokkembap can be ordered. It’s really a lovely experience, hanging out with a few buddies in public pajamas, snacking on goodies and sweating like pigs. It was to my great surprise and joy to find such a place here on US soil.

We left the jimjilbang feeling fully relaxed and refreshed and headed over to Jammin’ Java where I was stoked to watch John Mark McMillan. As expected, it was good.  We drove back to Baltimore late that night and promptly crashed (asleep, not the car.)

 Sunday morning Skye showed us her studio in downtown Baltimore and from there we walked to a lovely cafe where we sat outside munching on sandwiches, soup, and of course, sipping on some fine tasting coffee.

Sunday afternoon was another prime example of me pretty much geeking out. Really, this is the best term to describe myself over the last week. Skye took Cindy and I to The Walter’s museum in downtown Baltimore which is ripe with art and artificacts from ancient to medieval periods.However, we stopped briefly on the way at the Library of the Peabody Institute, where I pretty much just wanted to lay in the middle of the black and white shining floor and gaze up adoringly. Several floors of books surround a common floor area. Most of the books there are quite old and the only people allowed to go up the steep stairs to fetch a book for you are the librarians. I was in geek heaven.

(Side note-since I wrote that last sentence, I've landed, drove back to Sioux Falls, and am now sitting at work :(  finishing up the blog )

  

Once we arrived at The Walters we checked out some oddities and princely paintings, but spent the bulk of the time at the special exhibit called Treasures of Heaven: Saints Relics and Devotion in Medieval Europe. All of those hours spent in class working toward my Theology degree sprang to life. Up for just a few weeks at The Walter's, I'm so glad I got to see it while it was there. It was an exhibit full of ancient and medieval reliquaries, and occasionally an actual relic. If you choose to believe they're real, I saw slices of the "True Cross," a tooth of John the Baptist, and a piece of bone from James, the brother of Jesus. I try side on the side of rational thought most times, so I'm guessing those things I saw were random items collected by the medieval church in order to buy folks' devotion and further fund the already greedy church of the time. But that's just my opinion. Mostly there were highly decorated boxes, bibles, necklaces, etc which were from anywhere between 300AD-1600AD which had at one time housed the relics of past saints. It was a really fantastic and interesting exhibit.  I couldn't photograph in that exhibit, but these are pictures from other parts of the museum. Try to disregard the crookedness.

Sunday evening found a walk through the city and dinner at a delightful Afghani restaurant.

On Monday we had to say good bye to Cindy who was flying back to Minneapolis. In her own words, "I'm done vacating." Skye had to work, so I dropped Cindy off at the light rail and then headed north to explore the city, where I found Charm City Cakes, featured on the show Ace of Cakes on the Food Network. I wanted to check the space out, as we used to watch this show at work quiet often and laughed at how stoned we were pretty sure several of the crew were. I peered in the dark window and saw an outline of a woman working, which made me feel silly for poking around, so I looked away and kept walking. The surrounding air seemed fairly smoke free. :) I walked a few more blocks from Charm City Cakes and found myself on the campus of Johns Hopkins University. Seeing as how I have very little intellectual stimulation these days (in my real life, not during vacation) I wandered around the campus, and was pleased to find Krieger Hall. (Krieger is my paternal grandmother's maiden name.) I heard the term "neuroscience," used twice in a matter of minutes. I picked up a paper and an "anarchy in the UK" latte and sat outside absorbing sun and intellect.

Eventually, it was time for Skye to get off work, so I headed back to the neighborhood. I wandered around a bit and stumbled upon the house of F. Scott Fitzgerald just a few blocks from Skye's house.Naturally, I got a little giddy once again.

Skye and I went out for dinner when she was done with work at a place called Golden West. It was in the same northern neighborhood I had been in earlier that day, but I was quite surprised when one of the Charm City Cakes fellows walked his most adorable black and white pooch right past us. I felt pretty ridiculous as I was staring at him, trying to figure out if it was him, when we made eye contact, and I quickly looked away thinking, "Oh, man, sorry dude!" I found it funny, however, that it was the one guy I laughed at most on the show as he was the one who stood out as being the most high. His pupils seemed properly dilated that evening. :) Cute dog, too. 

I also went to a well respected coffee house, Spro, back on the northern side. I was surprised to know the barista when I walked in. I had met him the night of Skye's art show and he had gone out for drinks and Korean food with us. It's always fun having a neighborhoodesque experience in a new city. Baltimore's got the goods on neighborhoods. It started raining while I was there so I busted out my ipod and listened to "Raining in Baltimore," by Counting Crows, because that's the sort of nerd I am. I love that sort of "connectiony" stuff.

Tuesday, Skye had to work again, so I took to city alone once more, though this time exploring the southerly side. I walked around the harbour which happened to be right next to Camden Yards where the Orioles would be playing the Twins that night. It also happened to be Joe Mauer's birthday, so watching the Twins beat the Orioles would have been delightful. However, we didn't go to the game, and Mauer is on the DL anyway. It was still fun to see the stadium. I remember going there in 8th grade on a school trip to DC. We took one afternoon to go to the Baltimore Aquarium and our teachers took us to Camden Yards because the scoreboard was made at Daktronics in Brookings (where I was going to school.)

Wednesday morning, I woke up for my last day on the East Coast. I tried not to think about that. Skye once again was working, and I have a friend from high school who lives in DC and I was eager to spend some more time there anyway, so back down south to the capitol city I went.

This time I took the train, which is always fun. Taking trains is always fun. There's a lack of them in the midwest. From Baltimore to DC's Union Station it's about an hours ride. Outside Union Station is a Christopher Columbus monument, which to me looks like it should have mermaids hanging from it.

From Union Station I walked....and walked...and walked. Throughout the day on Wednesday, I walked a good portion of Washington DC. It was grand. It was a beautiful day outside and there is so much to see. I wanted to see the National Archives but the line was around the corner of the block, so I just kept walking. I walked around the capitol building and across from the Supreme Court and Library of Congress. I walked next to the Senate offices where I wanted to go in and find Mr. Thune for that cup of coffee I mentioned in my letter to him that I'm sooo sure he read. Polarization and all that nonsense....

I walked through downtown, past the FBI building, and the National Treasury (I waved to my money) to the White House, where I started to feel sort of odd and slightly creepy when I realized I was probably being watched from all sorts of places I wasn't aware of. Big Brother hangs out on 16th and Pennsylvania, I'm guessing.

 


As it was April 20th, I wasn't surprised when a block away from Obama's house, on 15th Street, there was a weed parade, protesting for legalization of marijuana. I was surprised, however, at how small of a crowd was walking in it. On 4/20 I imagined there would be a whole large protest in DC. But I guess that sort of thing requires a lot of motivation and organization with a lack of snacks.

From Obama's house, I walked back through downtown admiring all the people and architecture and world renowned buildings. Then I got on a subway and headed up to Bethesda to meet my friend Mary for all you can eat sushi. Mmmmm. She gave me some good suggestions for the afternoon. After our post-sushi coffee from Caribou (good to give Minnesota some love while so far away) I heeded her advice, and took the subway to DuPont Circle, where folks sit around outside chit chatting about life, love, politics, and whatever else they fancy. I noticed when I got there that it was on the end of Embassy Row. Seeing as how giddy I got just driving down the road a few days earlier, I decided to walk it. I ended up having what I decided to call my "Embassy Easter Egg Hunt." There were so many that would keep popping up here and there, it reminded me of being a child at an Easter Egg hunt. Once you see one, they keep popping up unexpectedly all over the place. I saw Kenya, Korea, Romania, Estonia, Philippines, Guatemala....oh the list goes on and on. I walked around like a....well, like a ridiculously excited child at an easter egg hunt, to be redundant. So much culture, architecture, so many languages...definitely a "me" sort of place. Though I have to say, I was a little disappointed that there was not a single tulip in front of the Netherlands' embassy.

From that particular end of Embassy Row, I walked to Georgetown University and its surrounding area. I sat with my shoes off on the shores of the Potomac in front of the Swedish Embassy and watched Georgetown Crew practice. That's one sport I wish I would have gotten into. It looks so fun.

 With that, it was time to head back north to Baltimore. I took the bus from Georgetown back to Union Station, said goodbye to one of my new favorite cities, climbed aboard the train and headed back for my final evening in Charm City. It was evening when I returned, so Skye, her husband Eric, and I walked downtown to the Owl Bar and grabbed some of the best pizza I've ever eaten. The next morning, I walked with Skye to work, where we parted ways. We hugged farewell, and off I strolled to the light rail which would take me to BWI. As if knowing I wanted just a bit longer in the east, my flight was delayed by 45 minutes. But eventually, I made it back to the great midwest, and here I sit. Ready, in fact in need, of another adventure.