Faces

The transition from teaching to writing has been challenging on many fronts. The world of teaching is full to overflowing with accountability, expectations, structure, and of course, people. As a writer, I'm in a different world now, and I'm learning to create my own structure, now that I have none. I'm also coping with being alone. Not counting my ever-snoozing dog, Josie, it's me, myself, and I, day in and day out. But as a friend recently pointed out, I am not really alone; my home (which is my workplace) is packed with friendly, albeit quiet, faces. This same friend said my apartment has a happy, positive energy. I have to agree. Why else would I be able to hang out here, working day after day? Now, if only those faces would give me a little direction with my creative energy and shout some deadlines at me, this could be a really productive environment.

Here are a few of the friendly faces that share my space.

Weddings Galore

In the past seven months, three of my four sisters have gotten hitched.
On February 23rd, Rebecca and Richie were married in Pittsburgh, PA. After a beautiful, simple ceremony at Ingomar United Methodist Church, the wedding party hopped on a party bus and headed downtown (stopping at the liquor store and grocery store on the way). Their celebration was held at the Pittsburgh Zoo Aquarium, winning the prize for the most original reception site. At the beautiful, new aquarium, we wandered among tanks of exotic fish, coral reefs, penguins, an octopus, sharks, and all variety of other marine life. Being surrounded by sea life had a dream-like affect on everyone; people were so calm and happy, they practically floated around all evening as well. Congratulations Rebecca and Richie!

On June 14th, Polly (aka Rosemary) and Aaron were married Above the Clouds in Sonoma, California. Above the Clouds is a bed and breakfast set in the foothills of the Sonoma Wine Country, only a mile from Polly and Aaron's oh-so-sweet cabin in the woods. This wedding celebration set a new standard for a "Hawaiian Luau". With the help of family and many friends, Above the Clouds was transformed into a full-fledged Hawaiian hideaway. Gideon and I enjoyed our time in Sonoma so much, we just might have to make a habit of visiting every year! Congratulations Polly and Aaron!

Finally, Myra and Tim said "I do" on August 31st, back in Pittsburgh, PA. They were married at Hampton Presbyterian Church. A dreamy reception was held at Armstrong Farms in Saxonburg, PA. A day blessed with perfect weather set the tone for a perfect celebration. The classy celebration turned into a full-out party that continued on until the next morning, as probably a third of the guests camped out on the farm. Dancing, lots of wine and beer, excellent food, a bonfire and tents... now that's a good time. Congratulations Myra and Tim!



As my cousin Kim said, "Your family throws the best weddings! They're all so different and quirky!" Don't I know it!

On July 14th, Gideon and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. So, here's some advice from an old married fart... I've learned a few things over the years.

• Talk, talk, talk about it! And if you can't, get someone to help you talk about it!
• Make each other feel special... not just every once in a while. In fact, schedule special days for each other once a week. It's a good habit.
• Give yourself a good amount of time to just be married (as in no kids). Only the two of you can decide what "a good amount of time" means.
• Do not allow pride to play a part in your marriage. If you need help, ask for it. If you're no good at something, admit it. If you can't figure it out, don't pretend you can.
  
• Get real and stay real. Being real can be a real pain, but it's how you build a lasting, solid foundation.
• Don't ever think that other couples "have it all together"...all marriages get messy sometimes. Just keep working on it and cleaning up as you go.
• Don't ever underestimate the power of love.

Only In China

In honor of the Beijing Olympics (which has been keeping me up late for the past few weeks), I am posting an old blog entry from my time in China 3 years ago. Enjoy!

Things Seen in China and not the U.S.:

1. Babies’ bottoms hanging out of bottomless clothing…and also, babies and small children peeing on the street, in the park, inside tourist attractions.
2. Blatant disregard for traffic laws…you put your life on the line each time you cross the street. But in defense of Chinese drivers, they do have incredibly fast reflexes; they can stop on a dime.
3. Scorpions, pigeon fetuses, and other mystery meat on a stick.
4. Military-like line ups of uniformed employees outside of restaurants and stores at shift changes.
5. Hawking and spitting like nowhere else (even by women, even on the subway train).

Things I will miss about China:

1. Karaoke!
2. The “movie star treatment”… being asked numerous times at each tourist attraction to pose for photos with Chinese people.
3. The Silk Market… even the pushy salespeople (“Lady! Lady! Looky! Looky! You like silk scarf?”).
4. Ice cream pop and popsicle stands on every corner.
5. The most adorable children ever.
6. Taxi rides that make you feel like you are in a video game.
7. Chinese people who are thrilled to practice their English with you.

Things I will not miss about China:

1. The never-ending spitting and nose-picking, any time, any place.
2. The nose-assaulting smells that punch you in the face every few minutes.
3. “Squatty-potties” and wastebaskets for used toilet paper, plus the overwhelming stench that accompanies all bathrooms.
4. Not being able to read anything (now I know a bit how it feels like to be illiterate).
5. The pushing and shoving at tourist attractions and on the subway. The lack of the concept of “a line”.
6. Ordering chicken and getting only the feet and some gristly bones.
7. Cabbies who don’t want to give you a ride.

It's Not As Easy As It Looks

The stars aligned this weekend enabling me to spend 5 or 6 hours with my brother, Brad, and my youngest sister, Gwen, in downtown Richmond, Virginia. The best thing about meeting up with Brad is that he always has really fun ideas of things to check out around town. And Gwen and I are usually willing to follow Brad anywhere.
The big idea on this visit was to rent Segways and tour around downtown Richmond. We quickly agreed to this plan and got a good laugh recalling our president's misfortune on a Segway--namely falling off of one, despite the said impossibility of doing so. We were quite confident in ourselves as we strolled into the Segway shop.
I was the first to volunteer to be trained. Much to my surprise, I was really unstable and jerky the moment I stepped on the high-tech machine. Buck, the shop owner, told me to "trust the Segway" and had me ooching up and down ramps and spinning in circles in minutes. Brad and Gwen were having giggle fits at my expense. I was definitely having second thoughts about this; and I totally understood why we were required to wear helmets.
Gwen was next to train and, of course, she was jerky and spazzy too. Brad, got on and seemed entirely too tall for the machine; if he fell, he was going to travel quite a ways before meeting the ground.
Apparently, we all passed training ala Buck, and he set us loose on the streets of Richmond. Our first challenge came a half a block down when we had to cross the cobblestone street. Whoa! Easy does it...

Soon we were zooming along the Canal Walk, trying to avoid taking a swim with the Segways. Within ten minutes, all three of us were feeling pretty comfortable. We were even snapping photos while riding. People were stopping, pointing, and gawking--I guess Segways are still pretty novel in some areas, or maybe we just looked really dorky and laughable (which is definitely a possibility on a Segway).

We visited the governor's mansion, where Gwen quite literally almost ran into the Governor and his motorcade coming down the driveway. I'm surprised we didn't get tackled by the secret police... or maybe that just happens in D.C. with the prez.
Things were going great, we were having a ball and getting our speed up when we realized we had to return the Segways in five minutes. To do this, we had to take a short cut through a gravel parking lot to get back to the Canal Walk. Well, I guess Segways and gravel aren't meant to mix, because as soon as Gwen hit a tire rut in the gravel, the wheels of her Segway stopped and she was bucked right off. I had the benefit of being behind her (with my camera in hand) to enjoy and capture the show. Besides a scratched-up leg, Gwen only suffered a bit of embarrassment. While I tried to stop laughing, Brad came back and helped Gwen get back on the Segway (which recovered nicely from the mishap, righting itself immediately, and wondering what happened to its passenger). We were able to get back to the Segway shop on time, and with no more mishaps along the way.

So, here's to George Bush, who gained a fleeting moment of respect from me this weekend. The Segway is a bit tricky at first, and apparently, it doesn't take a complete nincompoop to fall off of one.

This is What Tired Looks Like

You know I love living in the city, but every city mouse needs a break from the hustle and bustle from time to time. Gideon and I try to get out of the D.C. once a month or so. Heading to Lexington or Lovettesville, Virginia for some fresh air and time with family is usually the just the fix we are looking for--close to home, cheap, relaxing, and best of all, space for our boxer Josie to run.
Poor Josie... she is a country dog through-and-through and has not taken to life in the big city. She hates the buses, delivery trucks, and other big noisy things. If she had a tail (not a stub), it would be permanently between her legs here in D.C.
So, our jaunts to the country, though very much appreciated by me and Gideon, are even more welcomed by Josie. I'm telling you, the moment we get in the car and start heading west, she knows and she starts smiling (have you ever seen a boxer smile? Cute!). As soon as we reach our destination, we set our squirming dog loose and off she goes, running tirelessly for hours on end. Her city routine of sleeping on the ottoman for 20 hours a day is put on hold. Honestly, she doesn't stop unless we force her to. It's a sight to behold--Josie running at top speed, tongue flapping in the breeze, eyes full of life and doggy glee.
Well, of course, this energy explosion can only last about the length of a weekend. By Sunday afternoon, she slows down dramatically, usually just in time to get in the car to head back home to the city. And then the recovery begins. For the next two to three days Josie sleeps hard. I have to force her out the door to take care of business. If you ever wondered what tired really looks like, here it is.

Here's to living it up in the city and letting loose in the country!

This Is How It All Begins...

Gideon has been into road biking for years. And when I say "into road biking", I mean willing to drop hundreds of dollars on bike equipment; riding sometimes over 100 miles in a single day; getting half of his skin scraped off in crashes; racing what seemed like every weekend for years; riding through D.C. traffic to work each day. You get the idea.
This commitment to a sport has always boggled my mind. Who does this? (Not me!) How does it happen? What can be done about it? But now I'm starting to see how this all starts.
You see, I am now a road biker--a novice, at best, but a road biker. It's official. Gideon and I went on a 25 mile ride last weekend and a 40 mile ride today. Gideon's comment when we got home today (after our 4 hour ride) was, "Now you know what it really feels like to exercise." I considered taking offense to this, but I realized that he was right (for the most part... there was that one "Boot Camp" class I accidentally took at the gym).
Truly, I feel like I may become one of "them"--one of those people who are really into something sporty. I even dropped $130 last night on some "gear". That is just plain unusual for me! I'm feeding this new habit of mine.
So, here's why I'm excited about biking: it's great exercise--I have new muscles, I swear; I've been conditioning for months in spin class; I can actually do a 40 mile ride (who knew?!?!?); I can see my town (and the world) in a new way from a bike; and, best of all, this is something that Gideon and I can do together for a long, long time. I think that is really important in a marriage.
So, I'll keep you posted on my growing addiction. In the meantime, I'm going to cruise the bike gear websites.

Celebrity Spotting at the Smithsonian

Last Thursday I took a tour of the Air and Space Museum. The place is beyond huge and overwhelms my museum-loving heart. A tour is the only way to get a little something out of a museum visit if you feel that overwhelming feeling.
Anyway, the tour was great and all--my tour guide Bobbe, has been there since before the museum opened 32 years ago. She was fun, fresh and super-knowledgeable. But still--planes don't do much for me, so I was not totally paying attention after the first 20 minutes. Good thing, since it freed me up to do a little people watching. While kind of listening to the story of Charles Lindbergh I noticed some security guards scampering around looking very official. I knew something was up. And sure enough, there was Joan Rivers right there next to me on her own (private) tour with her grand kids (I presume)! Wow, I have never seen that much plastic surgery up close! Amazing! She's just a little thing too. No more than five feet. I stared a bit, but nobody else even noticed... they were all being good tourists, listening intently to Bobbe. Too bad for them! You snooze you lose! Or in this case, you snooze, you get to see Joan Rivers!
Check out Joan's blog and you can read about her D.C. trip! (Scroll down a bit.)
http://www.joanriversblog.com/blog/

By the way, I wasn't totally sure if it actually was Joan until today when my friends at the Natural History Museum confirmed my sighting.

I Love to Ride My Bicycle (I Think)

In the past year I have spent many happy, albeit tiring hours in "spin class". For those not up with the latest gym offerings, spin class consists of 20 or so stationary bicycles set up in a dark room. An instructor blasts a mix of fast-paced, loud music and instructs the riders through a 45 minute fake bike ride up and down hills, along country roads, or through city streets... or whatever terrain you want to imagine. The nice thing is that as an individual rider, you can adjust your resistance and pace to give yourself a challenge based on your own athletic stamina... and you will always keep up with the rest of the pack!
So, spinning has become one of my new favorite things. It is an excellent workout, and I have to admit, I feel like I have the potential to be a great biker, based on my in-class performance. I can really push it up those hills and I can deliver a pretty powerful sprint. And I always leave class nasty-sweaty--an excellent indicator that I busted my butt at the gym.
This weekend, I got to test out my biking prowess on a real bike, on a real road. Gideon tracked down a serious road bike for me to use, and on Sunday afternoon we headed out on a ride.
Now let me back up a bit to explain a little something... Gideon is a REAL biker. He has been riding for years and racing, too. In fact, at one point he was second or third in his race category in the state of Virginia. I clearly remember watching too much Tour De France coverage while on our honeymoon in Italy, if that gives you a better idea of what I'm talking about. Gideon has been wanting me to get on a bike for a long time; I was never interested until I started spinning.
Still, my idea of a bike ride is more along the lines of a cruise through the park, with a bike basket packed with a picnic, and a bell on the handle bars to let folks know I'm coming. Gideon's idea of a bike ride is just a step under the aforementioned Tour De France. Plus, I am a bit afraid of cars on the road, whereas Gideon rides his bike to work every morning through D.C. traffic. Could a husband and wife ride actually work?
Well, after making some adjustments on my borrowed bicycle, Gideon and I hit the road. Fortunately, we live right near Rock Creek Park, a beautiful park that stretches from Northwest D.C. into Maryland. We got to the park with no major issues, besides me losing my brand new water bottle while speeding down a substantial hill. (Gideon went back up the hill to retrieve it for me--bless his heart.)
Once in the park, we started riding north. This is when the trouble started. And when I say trouble, I mean, this is when I started feeling my bike seat in a not-so-pleasant way. And my back started hurting. And my hands started hurting. I toughed it out for 25 or 30 minutes until I had to stop to recover. Gideon was trying to be patient with me, but I could see that his hopes for a serious bike partner were fading quickly. I cried and pouted a bit, because I was hurting, and because I was doubting my own potential to be a real biker and not just a spinner.
Then I got back on the bike and this is when the fun began. In an effort to get home quickly, I started racing Gideon back towards home. We rode like bats out of hell. After letting me think I was really smoking him, he pulled into the front position and let me draft behind him as we sped along the road. We rode like this to the park exit, and I kept up with Gideon. And here was what I realized: the faster you ride, the less you notice the pain! Ahhh! Stop whining and ride! I was having so much fun, I even powered my way up the big hill (where I dropped my water bottle earlier) without stopping.
When we got home, I felt what most real bikers must feel--a feeling that keeps them going back to the road--a feeling of pride, exhaustion, exhilaration, and the satisfaction of a nasty-sweaty workout. And I'll be back out there next weekend.

So You Wanna Be a Tour Guide?

As you may recall, I have recently taken on the challenge of becoming an official D.C. tour guide. There is an official licensing exam in my future and I have been studying like a good little tour guide. I thought you might get a kick out of the kind of information I am filling my head with. Here is a brief sampling of random D.C. trivia:
1. How many animals are at the National Zoo? (3,600) Name them. (Just kidding)
2. What was unusual about streetcars operating on Washington streets? (They had no overhead wires)
3. How many bathrooms are in the White House? (35)
4. Which president gave the shortest inaugural speech? (Washington--133 words)
5. Who was the first president to be born in a hospital? (Jimmy Carter)
6. What state capitol building is taller than the U.S. Capitol? (Austin, Texas)
7. On the Marine Memorial (a.k.a. Iwo Jima), how many quarts of water could the soldiers' canteens hold? (32 quarts or 8 gallons)
8. What baseball tradition did President William Howard Taft begin in April 1910? (The 7th inning stretch)
9. What popular author called the Smithsonian "America's Attic"? (Mark Twain)
10. How many golf balls can fit inside the dome of the U.S. Capitol building? (a million-bazillion) (Just kidding)

Jumping Out of a Perfectly Good Airplane

Yes, that's right. That is what I did. And I wasn't even scared.
On Sunday morning, Gideon and I headed to Orange County, Virginia for him to redeem his birthday present from the whole family--a gift certificate to sky dive (with video and still pictures to boot!). We could discuss what kind of present that is, but that would be a different blog post all together. :)
The plan was for Gideon to jump and me to be there to offer moral support (as if he would need it). About a week ago, though, I started having little tantrums about skydiving too, kind of along the lines of, "I wanna go too!!!!" My brother, Brad, asked why I wasn't jumping with Gideon. Too expensive, I said. He told me that it was totally worth whatever I had to pay to do it. (This is despite the fact that he almost didn't survive his first jump... hmmm, makes me wonder.) So when we showed up at Skydive Orange, Gideon was only getting started signing his life away when I handed over my credit card and said, "Can you get me on that plane with my husband?" For $265.00, they could.
After giving up all rights to sue if things didn't go well, we had a quick training session, and then sat around pondering our decision and waiting our turn to jump. After about 2 hours (it was a busy day for skydiving), Gideon and I suited up in purple jump suits and hopped aboard a perfectly good little airplane, along with our tandem jump partners, Chuck and Mario and about 8 other jumpers.
It took about 10 minutes to climb to 13,000 feet. That's pretty high, and without a cloud in the sky, you can really appreciate that fact. On the way up, my jump partner, Chuck, chatted with me about teaching, D.C., breathing, and finally jumping. Gideon leaned over and gave me a kiss--boy, he looked cute in his goggles and jump helmet. Before I knew it, I was shuffling towards the gaping hole in the side of the plane, with Chuck attached to my back, and a parachute attached to his back. I don't think I even paused before letting myself fall out of the plane. It was one of those "don't think, just do it" moments.
What a feeling... free falling for a whole minute at a speed of about 120 miles per hour. My mouth was wide open the whole time (picture a big, silly, flapping smiley face), and it was bone dry in about two seconds. It was darn cold up there, too! But, man, what an experience. I even got to use my arms to steer us around. I'm a bird...I'm a plane...
At about 5,000 feet Chuck pulled the rip cord, which essentially is like slamming the breaks when you are speeding along at 120 mph. It felt like I was being yanked back up to the plane (by my underwear). But in a moment, we were floating along and enjoying the view. A few seconds later we saw Gideon and Mario floating not too far from us. We waved and followed them for a bit.
After about 6-7 minutes of floating, we landed like graceful birds right out in front of the Skydive Orange hanger, and I just started laughing like a euphoric drunk. It's all I could do. Maybe that much oxygen all at once can do that to a person.
Brad was right; it was worth every penny. And I'll do it again in a heartbeat.
By the way, you can see the pictures in a larger format by clicking on them. Also, the cool jumping pictures are only of Gideon since the picture/video package was part of his birthday present (the photographer stayed right with him). The ones with me aren't so exciting, but you can probably imagine my face as I free fell.

A Moment of Fear and Loathing in D.C.

Since moving to D.C. last August, I have come to adore my northwest neighborhood of Kalorama. You could say I am quite attached to my little apartment, my short commute to the Dupont metro station, and the convenient shops & parks in walking distance to my home. It's all quite idyllic. While a "happy little life" might not be what everyone aspires to, I have to admit, it is what I want. Unfortunately, attaining that kind of existence requires a certain amount of, let's say, obliviousness. Or, maybe denial. Or, naiveté.
I was getting it down, until last Sunday night when a young man was robbed and shot just around the corner from my apartment, and just about a 100 yards from where I was standing with Josie. My first thought when this happened was, "Run away!" But I got involved when I was one of a few witnesses that saw the get-away vehicle screech right by us.
Witnessing a violent crime has a way of shaking the naiveté right out of a person. I immediately felt fear threaten my attachment to my neighborhood. And I have definitely lost my fresh city-mouse innocence, as I'm sure happens at some point to most city-dwellers.
Initially, I thought, it is time to move--like, now. But, a few days have passed and a little perspective offered by friends and family members has helped me to deal with this new reality in my life. Most importantly, I have come to accept that bad things happen, not just in cities, but everywhere. It's a scary, unfortunate part of life. My sister, Myra really brought this into focus for me. I was telling her that I used to feel safe in my neighborhood. "Em," she said, "I used to feel safe at Virginia Tech." Oh yeah, me too.
Also, I've realized that a big city does not necessarily mean higher crime. A big city means more people living in close proximity to each other and a higher chance that the bad things that happen will be witnessed by more people. And that is what happened on for me on Sunday night.
On a good note, the 22 year old exchange student who was shot is expected to make a full recovery. I think this fact is playing a big role in my ability to deal with this awful experience.
So, life goes on, and I will go on loving my D.C. neighborhood, with perhaps a new measure of street smarts and a little less obliviousness.

Too Close to Home

Crime sucks.

Now I Kind of Get It

Our five and a half year old niece, Kaila, came for a visit this weekend. She and her doting Aunt Em and Uncle Gideon, as well as cousin Josie, had been looking forward to this weekend ever since it was planned 4 weeks ago. But now I think I know who was really counting down the days... Kaila's mom, Angie. Why? Because she is a mom, and moms need breaks! How do I know this, since I am not yet a mom? Well, because Kaila came for a visit this weekend. And I am tired. Don't get me wrong... it was a fun-filled, wonderful visit. But I am tired.
Here is a list of what we did this weekend:
* Met Kaila at the Shady Grove metro station. Rode the metro back to town. We had the whole metro car to ourselves for at least 4 stops--excellent for sprinting and swinging on the bars. Kaila also read aloud a book called I Ain't Gonna Paint No More. I highly recommend it to all!
* Made peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches for lunch--all out of jelly. Oops, what a shame.
* Walked to the International Children's Festival. Well, Gideon and I walked; Kaila rode on Uncle Gideon's shoulders. At the festival, we visited displays from many different countries with activities created just for kids, such as crafts to make, games or musical instruments to play, or clothing to try on. We also watched Irish dancers and Rwandan jump dancers.

* Grocery shopped at the brand new Harris Teeter. Ate our way through the store. Whose idea was it to have free samples of sushi, cheese, pineapple and ribs (yes, ribs!)?! I would love to thank him or her!

* Made a cake for Sunday's Mother's Day celebration. Main ingredient? Nutella. Yeaaa.

* Took Josie to the dog park and practiced throwing frisbees and big sticks.

* Pulled out all of Aunt Emily's arts and crafts supplies. Made many Mother's Day cards, and a big fat mess.

* Ate tuna fish sandwiches for dinner--Kaila's life-long obsession (that actually started in the womb).
* Played a fierce game of checkers with Uncle Gideon, followed by Scrabble.

* Snuggled with Josie and let her lick Kaila's face for a good while.

* Dragged our sorry, exhausted butts to bed at 8:45. OMG. So. Tired.
* Woke up ready to go at 6:45am.
* Made pancakes and bacon for breakfast--specially requested by Kaila.
* Visited a really, really, really run-down house... a possible project for Uncle Gideon and Aunt Emily to take on.

* Ate an Italian lunch with PapPap and Aunt Debbie.
* Went to a couple of open houses.
* Drove out to Lovettesville... getting lost on the way. Had a farty-sound-making-contest in the car to amuse ourselves on the two hour drive.
* Celebrated with the moms at Ahh-Pa's house with corn-on-the-cob and more ribs!
* Returned Kaila to her rightful owner.

So, all that in about 30 hours or so. I really didn't know I had it in me.
Moms and dads everywhere, I salute you. I will take a long nap this afternoon in honor of you.

Docent Duty

Do you know what a docent is? (I've been kind of surprised at how many people I've met that don't know and have never heard the word.) Well, a docent is a museum teacher, usually a volunteer, and I am a docent at the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History. Of course, this is not a pure, selfless, volunteer act on my part. I help the museum by being a docent in the halls and dealing with the public; and they help me by connecting me to all sorts of information and people pertinent to my book project. It's a nice little symbiotic relationship...give a little, take a little.
My typical day at the museum (which is Wednesday, if you care to drop in and see me in action), starts off in the Discovery Room. This is a romper-room of sorts where kids, families, and school groups can get their hands on stuff. (We keep a lot of hand sanitizer handy in there.) I help out with the school programs in the morning, usually assisting with one or two hands-on lessons for visiting school groups. It's fun and it feels a bit like school, but I don't have to grade papers or be "highly qualified" or anything.
After the lesson, I head to the "members-only" cafe--the cafeteria for Smithsonian employees. Apparently, I qualify. I'm in the club! (But I still feel a bit dorky, since I often sit by myself. I miss my lunch buddies in NH!)
Then it's out into the halls for the afternoon. I put on my docent vest (think safari vest, with the word DOCENT embroidered in giant print on the back--we don't want anyone to mistake me for a fashion-challenged wanderer); I load up my Discovery Cart with all sorts of goodies (artifacts, specimens, etc.); and I plant myself in my hall of choice, which is currently the mammal hall. I spread my wares on the cart to lure unsuspecting museum guests into a mini-lesson on, you guessed it, taxidermy! I've become well-versed on the subject, although I have yet to create a mount. I have all sorts of fur samples, glass eyeballs, plastic noses, as well as a foam form of a squirrel. People can't resist touching the fur samples and I can't resist making them guess what mammals they are from. The best sample is a full pelt of a fur seal. It is quite beautiful and it is ridiculously silky, dense and soft. So, why people would guess that it is from a bear, wolf, or cow (!!!), I cannot even begin to understand.
I also have a swatch of opossum fur. It's really pretty nice, considering the unappealing look of the critter. Yesterday, I had a 6 or 7 year old girl named Kayla guessing the furs. She's the one in the blue baseball cap in the photo. Here's a snippet of our conversation.
Me: (holding the bison fur) So, what mammal do you think this fur came from? Here's a clue: it was important to the plains Indians.
Kayla: Um... I think it's bison.
Me: Wow! How did you know that?
Kayla: I'm taking social studies. (Duh.)
Me: Well, you must be paying attention. How about this fur? (holding out the opossum fur) Here's a clue. It's from the only marsupial in North America.
Kayla: Um... um...
Me: It starts with "O".
Kayla: Oh! Oh! I know! O...O...Opotamus!!!!
Too darn cute! I love this job.
So, come on over to the Natural History Museum... I have all sorts of stuff to show you!

All in a Day's Walk

Spring has sprung in DC and I have put on my walking shoes. My day starts off with a walk with Josie through the Kalorama/Sheridan neighborhood across the street. The neighborhood is home to many foreign ambassadors residences. Each home is more beautiful than the next. It also was home to many former presidents (while they were not living in the White House, I suppose); as well as Madame Chiang Kai-shek, influential widow of the Chinese Nationalist Party president who died only a few years ago at 106; and child-star turned diplomat, Shirley Temple Black. I feel special just walking through the neighborhood.
My sister, Myra, and I have also taken up the healthy habit of taking afternoon power walks through the city. Myra works only a few blocks down Connecticut Avenue from me, so it is easy enough to meet up a few times a week on her lunch break, and it's a heck of a lot cheaper than our former habit of meeting up for lunch once a week. On our first walk together about a month back, we headed towards a park in the distance. Our conversation, as we walked, went a little something like this:
Emily: What a beautiful park. I wonder what park this is?
Myra: What a beautiful house over there. Say... that kind of looks like the White House, don't you think?
Emily: By golly, that IS the White House. How long has that been there?
Who knew the White House was a block away from Myra's office building? Obviously, not us. But that is the beauty of a walk: orientation. Now we kind of know where we are, at least in respect to the most famous house in the city.
Last week while Myra and I were walking, we saw something plummet from the sky, nearly missing our faces, and bounce off my shoe. What the heck was that? A "dropling", my term of the week. A dropling is a baby bird that, well, drops from the nest to the ground, to its death. Now, where this particular little guy came from is anyone's guess, as there were no trees anywhere around. It think this one fell from a cloud. We got a bit sad, said goodbye and walked on.
One more walking story for you. Yesterday, my friend Marissa visited from NYC. We decided to check out a free (for tips) walking tour of the D.C. monuments I had heard about on the Internet. After marching around the base of the Washington Monument a few times, we finally spotted a group of a few dozen people following a red-head with a baby-blue t-shirt, on which was printed "Free Tours! Follow Me!" Follow we did, for an hour and a half of historical trivia and little-known tales of the D.C. monuments and city history. For example, did you know that a cat once climbed the Washington Monument, fell off, landed on its feet (of course), walked across Constitution Ave. only to be eaten by a dog waiting on the other side? OK, so maybe that was one of the tall tales tour guide Ben made up to keep us on our toes, but I'd say 99% of the rest of the information he shared was 99% true. So impressed was I with the tour that upon its completion, I marched up to tour guide Ben and handed him my business card. I said something like, "Great tour Ben. I am a teacher, history buff, and actress. If you need any more tour guides, I can do it." And he said something like, "You're hired. Are you serious? You're hired."
So, all in a day's walk (or two), I found the White House, kicked a dropling, and got a job as a D.C. tour guide. And I'm meeting Myra in a few hours for another walk.

How 'bout another distraction?

Should I do this? Should I enter the trendy cyber-world of the BLOG? I've been debating it for months. Yes, it's a great way to keep in touch with friends and family. Yes, it's a step up from the sometimes-trashy realm of facebook and myspace (in my techno-snob opinion). Yes, it's a fine creative outlet that serves a purpose. But... really, who am I kidding? Ultimately, it is yet another distraction from what I should be doing.
But, you don't understand! This I can do! This blog thing, although new to me, is totally navigable. Creating a book for kids on museums... well, that's uncharted territory. I don't know how to do that. But that is my job right now.
Okay, so I will blog. I will do it! Yes! It feels good--like a real accomplishment or something! Watch out DC... I am about to share your secrets. Soon, my couple dozen or so friends and family members will be getting the inside scoop of this crazy life here in our nation's capitol. Alright, so perhaps my life isn't so wild and crazy, but I do have my share of adventures here. Just last week I interviewed the taxidermist for the Natural History Museum for my book. Now, that's interesting. Check him out on this very cool youtube snippet. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_-wOZAeuvI
This is my life, friends! Sometimes it's cool!
So, here goes nothing... I hope you enjoy my stories about this life I'm living and loving in DC.