Botanical Gardens.

Yesterday, our class went up to Capitol Hill for class in the morning.  We had a two-hour break between two of our briefings, so we decided to spend some time being tourists.  We were on our way to the Air and Space Museum when we walked past a very pretty area:

Turns out, we were right next to the Botanical Gardens.  And seeing as our group is dominated by estrogen, the lure of flowers won over airplanes.  [Which I was fine with because (1) you know how I feel about flowers/plants/nature/life and (2) I want to go to the Air and Space Museum for their Halloween event which may or may not involve aliens.]  

Even though we were only there for an hour or so, I had to make this event its own blog post because of the number of pictures I took.  (I forgot my camera, but luckily sweet Carly let me use hers.)  You know what happens when you combine me, a camera, and plants . . . .

(Showcasing the lovely plants.)

I kinda sorta really love plants.  Actually, I don't know if other people get this, and I don't think I have ever explained this to you . . . but sometimes I get so filled with joy/excitement/happiness/something-that-is-really-good-and-awesome that I feel like I'm going to burst.  Most of the time it has something to do with nature.  And that's how I felt at the Botanical Gardens.  Like I was at a giant feast and I would never be able to take in everything, so I definitely plan on going back.  (Especially to write down the names of certain plants so I can have them in my garden or greenhouse.)  And I could go on and on but I'll just stop now, because I probably sound crazy.

xoxo.

now take it in, but don't look down

At approximately 11:43 p.m., I was standing near the Watergate Hotel with a few others dancing like I was Caden Rhoton.  (Okay, maybe not that extreme.)  We did an impromptu iPod dance party, where basically everyone gets the same playlist on their iPods, hit play at the same time, and dance.  We danced for 26 straight minutes.  It was great.

So, seeing as I was already tired earlier this evening when I talked to you, I am pretty pooped now.  So, I will only cover what happened earlier this week, and I'll save entries (yes, plural because I will probably need to do two separate entries for today) for later.

On Tuesday evening, in honor of 9/11, our group went to the Pentagon 9/11 memorial:

It was really beautiful.  I also went to a small commemoration on the south side of the Capitol earlier that day.  That day was probably the most significant of the week.

Other than that, I just have a few miscellaneous pictures that were taken before today:

1. Kelsey attempted to do my hair.

2.  I went with Kate and Amanda (girls from work) to get cupcakes for Amanda's birthday.  I got a dark chocolate one.  Mmmmmmm.  I also found out that I am allergic to macaroons.

3. On Wednesday, we went to some national pork event on the Hill.  I felt very official.  They also gave us gloves to eat our ribs with.

(p.s. Mom, I have been given many compliments on this dress.  Good find.)

That's all I have for you tonight.  Sorry it's brief.  But I will leave you with the song that ended my wonderful Friday:

food and more important things

Food is a complicated thing.  It is a driving, motivating force, and it is a hindrance to many of my goals and desires.  It provides me with feelings of fulfillment, but also feelings of regret.  It is the bane and the boon of my existence.

Remember how I told you that it seems like I have been here a lot longer than two weeks?  Well, I think that food is partially the cause.  Carly, Kelsey, and I vowed yesterday that we are going to significantly reduce our eating out--for both our wallets' and our waists' sakes--and I think it will help slow down our experience as well.  (But don't worry, I'm still going running everyday.)  Going out to eat is such a way to measure things, and we were just so excited to be here and try everything that I think it got the best of us.  But, now that the first jolt of excitement has worn down, we can recognize that we have time to explore D.C.'s wonderful cuisine selection one outing-per-week at a time.

However, that being said, my first reports of the week will focus on food:  

Thursday, we went to We, the Pizza.  I didn't really realize how big the slices were when I ordered, so I was a little nervous about finishing them.  (But I saved some for lunch the next day.)

Friday, we went to a fancy-ish restaurant (fancier than our typical outing) called Zaytinya and I got an upscale version of a doner kebab.

Saturday, we got burgers from a wonderful place called Burger Tap & Shake.  Unfortunately, the shakes here in D.C. are not quite to my liking (aka runny aka not thick aka you-might-as-well-just-drink-chocolate-milk-with-whipped-cream-mixed-in-which-is-gross) but that's okay because the burger and fries were plenty.  We were really satisfied, but it was also the straw that had us decide it was time to just eat bird food for a while.

We decided that Sundays, however, are days that really need a good meal.  So today I made chili and cornbread for my dinner group--it was pretty tasty.  (Although the picture below might not show it . . . I don't know if it's really possible to take an attractive picture of chili.)

Now that food is out of the way, we can move on to the more important activities of the weekend.  On Friday, we went to the American Art Museum/National Portrait Gallery.  I loved it.  I think it is my favorite so far.  There was some event going on though, so I was only able to see about 1/3 of the museum, so I need to go back.  We sat outside of the museum for a bit before dinner, and it was the most beautiful night.  No humidity, perfect temperature, beautiful sunset, etc.  And then after dinner, we got frozen yogurt and then went to the WWII Memorial.

We woke up at 7:00 a.m. on Saturday and took the metro, the bus, and a little walk to the Washington D.C. Temple.  It was so wonderful--probably the highlight of my week.  It was like being home again.  The temple is the one place where my mind actually slows/calms down, and I was able to actually to think through some things.  Ah, I love the temple.

  

After the temple, we went to the gym and then our plan was to go to Old Town Alexandria.  But right as I was fixing my hair, I heard a strange sound . . . and I looked outside to find a giant rainstorm.  IT WAS SO COOL.  But, it kinda killed our plans for the evening.  So instead, McKay and I went outside and jumped in puddles and ran around.  After that our evening consisted of talking, laundry, eating, grocery shopping, and the like.  And then we went to bed early{ish} because we were exhausted.

Today was a wonderful Sunday, as always.  The singing in church sounded like the usual chorus of angels and I took a nap and made cookies and watched the fireside.  And Carly and I made confessions to one another and now we're going to bed in hopes that a little extra sleep will help us prepare for a Congress in session.

[wish us luck.]

a dream come true

I rarely, if ever, write to a company/organization/whatever-it-is-you-name-it with comments or questions.  (Unless, of course it is in behalf of Mrs. Megen Morgan.)  Especially not large corporations.  

With that understood, there was one time where I felt strongly enough about something that went onto a company's website, typed in my specific product number, and left a very simple comment:

"Needs more bunches."

Yes, yes.  This was indeed a comment written to a cereal company.  And not just any cereal company, but  to the one and only Post, regarding their Honey Bunches of Oats.  

(Side note: Do not, I repeat, do not ever, under any circumstances, purchase a knock-off brand of this cereal.  You will be sorely disappointed and it is not worth whatever amount of money you would save.)

Anyway, this comment came after a few weeks of feeling that my boxes of Honey Bunches of Oats were lacking in the department of crunchy, delightful, sweet bursting flavor.  So I left that comment.

And lo and behold . . . .

Commenting works.  Companies do have ears.  The power of the people does exist.  This, my friends, is a true success story.  This is the American Dream.

markets, museums, and more

{Okay, pretend that I write something really clever/witty/funny to get this thing rolling.  Use your imagination for whatever you'd like me to say.  And then tie it into some sentence that ends with, "so here's the run-down of my Labor Day weekend.}

The weekend started off with a nice morning run to/through Arlington Cemetery.  Once I was back and showered, we went to the Eastern Market . . . somewhere in eastern D.C.  But, as you know, I LOVE MARKETS.  So it was awesome.  And I bought some fruit there for lunch.

a cool, giant Caterpillar we found.

After scouring the market and avoiding all temptation to spend lots of money on trinkets, we went to the Museum of American History.  This was a lot cooler than I expected.  I think my favorite exhibit is one they had on the gowns of the First Ladies.

As usual, I couldn't keep a straight face.

(take that James Hawker.)

We were absolutely famished by the time we finished with this museum, so we went to a wonderful place called Cosi for an early dinner.  We relaxed and ate and talked and ate for a long time, and then rushed up to get free tickets for a Shakespeare play.  Once we had the tickets, we wandered around Chinatown for a while, where I met up with Zachary!!  

He wore this shirt to "fit the occasion"

The play that we went to was "All's Well that Ends Well."  It was delightful.  I did, however, manage to break my chair before the show started.  Honestly, I wasn't even surprised as I fell backward.

Sunday was beautiful.  After church and dinner at Carly's cousin's, we went to a concert at the Kennedy Center.  (It was supposed to be outside by the Capitol, but it was kinda sorta raining . . .)  That was also beautiful.  And a jazzy hey-hey guy sang--my favorite.

Monday consisted of sleeping in, breakfast at a lovely place called Founding Farmers, relaxing, a barbecue, and getting lost on our way to the grocery store.  (Which almost led to blisters.)

And finally, last night we made our way out to a Nats game.  I had the most delicious cheeseburger from Shake Shack and we cheered the team on loudly.  It was actually an awesome game--they creamed the Cubs.

{Oh also--I should mention that I saw Bill Murray on my run yesterday morning, just jogging along.}

Sometimes I think that I am going to be out of things to do soon--just because I feel like I've done so much already.  But then I talk to others and realize that there is so so much more.  This is only the beginning.

twenty-one

You used the voice.  You used the sad voice when I told you I wouldn't be writing a post until the long weekend was over, so I decided to whip up a quick little something for tonight. 

I have only 21 days left for me to finish my "21 things to do before I'm 21" list . . . and sadly I don't think I will complete it.  Here's the list--everything I have not completed is in red:

1.  learn another language

2.  top of Eifel tower

3.  ride on a gondola

4.  graffiti

5.  visit Stonehenge

6.  see a Broadway play

7.  Lake Havasupai

8.  skinny dipping

9.  go sailing

10. swim in the ocean

11. humanitarian trip/Africa

12. swim with dolphins

13. straddle a state line

14. run in some event

15. go to a nude beach

16. get up (and stay up) on water skis*

17. go to at least 2 foreign countries

18. Nauvoo temple/Carthage jail

19. walk the Golden Gate bridge

20. go to a French bakery

21. see a flower field -or- stay in a cute B&B

*I can't decide if this was completed

Granted, this list has been reformed/changed/adapted from the original.  When I first wrote it I was about 13 or 14, and so I didn't really know what to write or what cool things were out in the world . . . so I felt it appropriate to change the list to fit other cool things that I did.  So . . . maybe I will just do that.  Although six  of the seven that are still on my list are originals, so I feel lame for not completing those.

Whatever the case, I won't have another mile-marker birthday for 19 years, so I am going to live up the last three weeks before I become a true adult.


p.s. I woke up with this song stuck in my head and I am now going to bed with the same song stuck--that rarely happens:

so I went to a psychic

It was a warm, beautiful night under a bright [legitimate] blue moon.  The friends and I were in high spirits as we strolled along the quaint, historic streets of Georgetown.  But suddenly, we came to a halt as Carly noticed a sign that said, "Palm Reading."  She turned to me with a spark in her eyes that told me we had to go in.

We hesitantly made our way up the creaky, narrow steps, seeking comfort that we were still in the real world by rubbing our hands along the rough brick of the wall as we went.  At the top of the stairs was a dusty old door, which Jessica quickly came and unlocked once she heard us knocking.  We walked into her 70's decor living room and took a seat.  The air was heavy with perfume and her son/grandson sat on the computer in the corner playing Star Wars and eating fries.  One at a time she studied our palms underneath  a dim lamp.

My reading started out as you would expect:
"I see a long life.  I see that you are kind.  I see that you are honest, but maybe too honest.  Others take advantage of this at times.  I see people with the letters R and D in their names in your life.  I see you working with people, in consulting . . . . in journalism.  I see that you have a good aura but . . ."

But then, what she had to say took a turn for the worst.  The summary:
Apparently, I suffered a "spiritual death" from a relationship a while ago, which gave me a bad aura for the last three years and the last bits are hanging on.  It has caused me to be cautious with whom I trust.  And this has hindered me from finding my soul mate.  And I'm supposed to have a few serious relationships before I find said soul mate.  And if I do not fix it, I will never be with my soul mate and I will lead an unfulfilled life.

She went on for quite a while talking about this, and she was very somber and serious.  She then advised me that I needed to come back for therapy to get rid of the dregs of my spiritual killer's negative aura.

Needless to say, I probably won't be heading back any time soon to cough up $100 for shock therapy.  Thanks though, Jessica.