Today, on the way to my friend's place in Alexandria, I got lost. Horribly, irrevocably lost. It was dark, rainy, the traffic was tremendous, and my GPS quit on me. This was particularly terrifying for me, since I have almost no nascent sense of direction.
I hate that - I hate being the stereotypical Asian woman who can't drive, I hate how helpless and stupid I feel. The worst part is when I can't rise above it, when I can't laugh at myself. When I finally reached my friend's place, I actually broke down and started crying. It was humiliating - but my friends just have me a hug and brought me a drink and let me cry it out. Maggie helped more than she could know by just saying, "It's weird - you're so smart!"
It was almost worth it, to have my friends show me that just because I get lost doesn't make me a loser.
Showing posts with label here to there. Show all posts
Showing posts with label here to there. Show all posts
Nov 10, 2011
Jan 22, 2010
Security guards actually make me feel less secure
As many of you know, today is the 37th anniversary of Roe v. Wade. I was coming back from a meeting downtown around lunch time today, so I was present to witness the locust-storm of March for Life demonstrators filling Metro Center station. I should also mention that pro-choice groups gathered at the Supreme Court building around the same time. Many others have covered and will cover this fascinating application of free speech and the right to assemble. I would like, as I often do, to dwell on a tiny insignificant detail that may or may not have anything to do with the issue at hand.
There were security guards at the metro today. Tall men with badges and stern faces always pique my interest. So I went up to one of these gentlemen with a genial smile and a simple question,
"Excuse me... why are you all here?"
"Visibility," came the terse reply. Off my expression of pure huh?, he elaborated. "We're checking the track. That's all."
I looked at his cohort on the other side of the platform, who was staring unblinkingly at the gathering crowd of sign-wavers, and said, "Ah, okay. Thanks!"
Protests are a dime a dozen here in DC. Makes sense, being the nation's capital and all. But this particular issue is so contentious, and the current political environment so volatile, that apparently the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority doesn't think we can be trusted to behave ourselves.
That's a bit too far, I thought to myself as I walked away from the nice intimidating man. Then I saw a girl with a bumper sticker attached to her forehead that read "Abortion is NOT Healthcare." It was all I could do not to rip the damn thing off, eyebrows be damned. And suddenly I realized ... Oh, hell. We can't be trusted.
So good luck today, everyone (on both sides). While I may or may not share your views, I support your right to express them... calmly and, if at all possible, rationally. And to the WMATA security guards (and the DC police, and anyone else charged with keeping the peace) - I hope this event turns out to be entirely uneventful.
There were security guards at the metro today. Tall men with badges and stern faces always pique my interest. So I went up to one of these gentlemen with a genial smile and a simple question,
"Excuse me... why are you all here?"
"Visibility," came the terse reply. Off my expression of pure huh?, he elaborated. "We're checking the track. That's all."
I looked at his cohort on the other side of the platform, who was staring unblinkingly at the gathering crowd of sign-wavers, and said, "Ah, okay. Thanks!"
Protests are a dime a dozen here in DC. Makes sense, being the nation's capital and all. But this particular issue is so contentious, and the current political environment so volatile, that apparently the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority doesn't think we can be trusted to behave ourselves.
That's a bit too far, I thought to myself as I walked away from the nice intimidating man. Then I saw a girl with a bumper sticker attached to her forehead that read "Abortion is NOT Healthcare." It was all I could do not to rip the damn thing off, eyebrows be damned. And suddenly I realized ... Oh, hell. We can't be trusted.
So good luck today, everyone (on both sides). While I may or may not share your views, I support your right to express them... calmly and, if at all possible, rationally. And to the WMATA security guards (and the DC police, and anyone else charged with keeping the peace) - I hope this event turns out to be entirely uneventful.
Nov 3, 2009
There are three kinds of people exiting the Metro. Those that ride the escalators up and down, those that ride up and walk down, and those that walk both ways. I'm firmly in the second category, as it seems the most efficient use of both my time and energy.
But this morning I ran into an acquaintance who is, apparently, a walker. I was engrossed in trying to make appropriate small talk as we approached the escalators, and neglected stake out a spot on the right side (where people usually ride to the top). Before I knew what was happening he was three steps up on the left side, looking over his shoulder expectantly. I had two choices: (a) be lazy/rude and ride to the top alone or (b) drag my fat ass up a contraption that had been designed specifically to prevent such a spectacle.
God forbid I should be rude.
Spoiler alert - I survived. I reached the top, panting as if I'd run a mile and sweating profusely. My acquaintance looked at me askance, as he was not even breathing heavily. Smug, physically fit so-and-so. *shakes fit* Still it was an eye-opener. I need to work out ... just not on a Stairmaster.
But this morning I ran into an acquaintance who is, apparently, a walker. I was engrossed in trying to make appropriate small talk as we approached the escalators, and neglected stake out a spot on the right side (where people usually ride to the top). Before I knew what was happening he was three steps up on the left side, looking over his shoulder expectantly. I had two choices: (a) be lazy/rude and ride to the top alone or (b) drag my fat ass up a contraption that had been designed specifically to prevent such a spectacle.
God forbid I should be rude.
Spoiler alert - I survived. I reached the top, panting as if I'd run a mile and sweating profusely. My acquaintance looked at me askance, as he was not even breathing heavily. Smug, physically fit so-and-so. *shakes fit* Still it was an eye-opener. I need to work out ... just not on a Stairmaster.
Oct 26, 2009
And by "fun" I mean...
While in Hawaii, I did two things purely for fun. I went to the Waikiki Aquarium and the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor. This is my idea of a good time: educational activities and solemn remembrance. In my defense, I didn't have a lot of time away from the conference. And since I didn't have a rental car I had to walk/bus it everywhere. So the Great Public Transportation Experiment continued even in Waikiki.
A word on the Hawaii bus system - it's awesome. There are tons of routes, so you never have to wait very long for a bus. Automatic overhead announcements give you the cross streets and major landmarks. And the drivers (like pretty much everyone I met in Waikiki) are super friendly. You know hapless tourists are pestering them with questions 24/7, but they patiently answer with a smile and a cheerful "mahalo!"
So it was no problem for me and Baby Genius to catch a bus to the aquarium. I suggested (read: demanded) that we go there, since I love aquariums. Sea creatures are so beautiful and serene. Also, I have this idea that fish don't really know they're in captivity, which makes going to an aquarium much more enjoyable than going to the zoo. The Waikiki Aquarium is smallish, but they had some cool exhibits. These included the oldest giant clam known to man and a couple of adorable seals.
These clams were as big as your face ... but they are tiny compared to the real deal.
Cuteness... overload... I'll have to finish with my account of the USS Arizona in another post.
A word on the Hawaii bus system - it's awesome. There are tons of routes, so you never have to wait very long for a bus. Automatic overhead announcements give you the cross streets and major landmarks. And the drivers (like pretty much everyone I met in Waikiki) are super friendly. You know hapless tourists are pestering them with questions 24/7, but they patiently answer with a smile and a cheerful "mahalo!"
So it was no problem for me and Baby Genius to catch a bus to the aquarium. I suggested (read: demanded) that we go there, since I love aquariums. Sea creatures are so beautiful and serene. Also, I have this idea that fish don't really know they're in captivity, which makes going to an aquarium much more enjoyable than going to the zoo. The Waikiki Aquarium is smallish, but they had some cool exhibits. These included the oldest giant clam known to man and a couple of adorable seals.
These clams were as big as your face ... but they are tiny compared to the real deal.
Cuteness... overload... I'll have to finish with my account of the USS Arizona in another post.Oct 15, 2009
Blog Action Day 2009
The topic of this year's Blog Action Day is climate change. I'm not about to go all EPA on you ... if you're reading this, you're probably a hippie-liberal like myself and are totally on board with the whole We're Suffocating Mother Earth in Greenhouse Gases thing. The question remains, "what can I do about it?" P.S. The EPA's children's site is much more my speed, sad to say.
For a while now all the cool kids have been talking about "reducing your carbon footprint." And when I lived in C'ville, I knew I was not doing so well with that. I would routinely drive to visit my family (300 miles round trip) or my friends (200 miles round trip) every other weekend. I drove to work, even though I lived within walking distance. I had moderate success with recycling, but I quickly lost interest in composting. I went on a number of international trips and flew domestically fairly often. The only reason I can write all this now is that I've changed/will be changing many of these things, and thus am not as shamed as I used to be.
So I figured my carbon footprint must be HUGE. Like, astronomical and offensive to god, right? For this year's Blog Action Day, I decided that confession is good for the soul. And so I give you, My Carbon Footprint (from the last three years).
So I've clearly outstripped the world target by a factor of five - I was expecting that. What surprised me is that my footprint is HALF the national average. Sure, I didn't routinely burn enough coal to heat the neighborhood or use a rocket-pack to get to the grocery store, but seriously? That's kind of sad.
Clearly, the amount of traveling I was doing was a problem. Well, that's been taken care of - as my loyal readers will remember, I've sent Sheldon (my beloved Corolla) home with my parents. My dad usually drives him to work instead of his minivan (which is certainly less fuel efficient than Sheldon) - two birds, one stone! What I really need to work on, it seems, are all my "Secondary" issues. These are things like buying organic/local/seasonal foods and ... recreation? The one thing I don't like about this calculator is that it doesn't provide direct links with explanations. I know why I should take a walk rather than go to a restaurant in terms of my waistline, but I'm scratching my head as to what exactly that has to do with climate change.
I guess the moral of the story is that there are lots of things we can do, not all of which may be intuitive. For my part I will continue the Great Public Transportation Experiment, check out the year-round fresh food market for some grub, and maybe try to incorporate some "zero carbon activities" into my free time. What about you?
For a while now all the cool kids have been talking about "reducing your carbon footprint." And when I lived in C'ville, I knew I was not doing so well with that. I would routinely drive to visit my family (300 miles round trip) or my friends (200 miles round trip) every other weekend. I drove to work, even though I lived within walking distance. I had moderate success with recycling, but I quickly lost interest in composting. I went on a number of international trips and flew domestically fairly often. The only reason I can write all this now is that I've changed/will be changing many of these things, and thus am not as shamed as I used to be.
So I figured my carbon footprint must be HUGE. Like, astronomical and offensive to god, right? For this year's Blog Action Day, I decided that confession is good for the soul. And so I give you, My Carbon Footprint (from the last three years).
So I've clearly outstripped the world target by a factor of five - I was expecting that. What surprised me is that my footprint is HALF the national average. Sure, I didn't routinely burn enough coal to heat the neighborhood or use a rocket-pack to get to the grocery store, but seriously? That's kind of sad.
Clearly, the amount of traveling I was doing was a problem. Well, that's been taken care of - as my loyal readers will remember, I've sent Sheldon (my beloved Corolla) home with my parents. My dad usually drives him to work instead of his minivan (which is certainly less fuel efficient than Sheldon) - two birds, one stone! What I really need to work on, it seems, are all my "Secondary" issues. These are things like buying organic/local/seasonal foods and ... recreation? The one thing I don't like about this calculator is that it doesn't provide direct links with explanations. I know why I should take a walk rather than go to a restaurant in terms of my waistline, but I'm scratching my head as to what exactly that has to do with climate change.
I guess the moral of the story is that there are lots of things we can do, not all of which may be intuitive. For my part I will continue the Great Public Transportation Experiment, check out the year-round fresh food market for some grub, and maybe try to incorporate some "zero carbon activities" into my free time. What about you?
Sep 22, 2009
I’m a Terrible Person
Yesterday I was waiting for the NIH shuttle next to a middle-aged man wearing a face mask. It’s nearing flu season, and with the buzz about H1N1 I didn’t think much about it. Then he asked me how to get to a certain building – I looked through the shuttle schedules, which are posted at the bus stop, and told him. We struck up a conversation about how difficult it can be for newbies to navigate public transportation, both on and off the NIH campus. Apparently, he had just flown in from California and had to use the metro/bus system to get here. This naturally led to me asking what brought him to Bethesda.
Him: I’m going to see an immunologist. I’m one of those bubble boys – that’s why I’m wearing the mask.
Me (assuming he was kidding): Heh heh.
Him (sadly): They just can’t figure out why I keep getting sick.
Me: ...
It’s not really news that, if Hell exists, Satan is keeping a seat nice and warm for me. Hearing this, he must have turned the thermometer up a notch. I laughed … at the Bubble Boy. *sigh*
Him: I’m going to see an immunologist. I’m one of those bubble boys – that’s why I’m wearing the mask.
Me (assuming he was kidding): Heh heh.
Him (sadly): They just can’t figure out why I keep getting sick.
Me: ...
It’s not really news that, if Hell exists, Satan is keeping a seat nice and warm for me. Hearing this, he must have turned the thermometer up a notch. I laughed … at the Bubble Boy. *sigh*
Sep 18, 2009
Public Transportation
Shortly after I moved to DC, I determined that I would not be able to keep my car. First of all, there were the various costs – insurance, parking, gas, etc. Add to that my complete lack of directional sense and the multitude of “roundabouts” here in the district, and you begin to see the problem. So I left Sheldon (yes, my car’s name is Sheldon) with my parents at Castle Sri and began the Great Public Transportation Experiment of 2009.
Every morning, I walk a couple blocks to the metro station. This necessitates wearing walking shoes and carrying my dress shoes in my purse. As this is a common practice among DC’s professional women, no one bats and eye. The metro takes me to the NIH campus, where I go through security and catch a shuttle to my building. At the end of the day I reverse the trip, and so far (knock on wood) I’ve managed this without incident.
Sometimes the train cars are crowded, and I hate touching strangers. I try to position myself so I won’t bump up against anyone, but it takes a lot of effort. And very time someone in my vicinity so much as sniffles, I think ‘omg, H1N1’ and start inching away. Sometimes the trains themselves are filthy, with gum and grime all over the floors. *shudder* I’m convinced I’m not alone in my revulsion. Just as no one is an atheist in the foxhole, everyone is a germaphobe on the metro.
At the end of the day, though, I like the idea of public transportation (even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the transportation itself). Seeing thirty people in a train car means that thirty cars were left in garages, parked on the street, or at someone’s parent’s house. Some were not purchased at all. Not to go all Martha Stewart on you, but it’s a good thing.
Every morning, I walk a couple blocks to the metro station. This necessitates wearing walking shoes and carrying my dress shoes in my purse. As this is a common practice among DC’s professional women, no one bats and eye. The metro takes me to the NIH campus, where I go through security and catch a shuttle to my building. At the end of the day I reverse the trip, and so far (knock on wood) I’ve managed this without incident.
Sometimes the train cars are crowded, and I hate touching strangers. I try to position myself so I won’t bump up against anyone, but it takes a lot of effort. And very time someone in my vicinity so much as sniffles, I think ‘omg, H1N1’ and start inching away. Sometimes the trains themselves are filthy, with gum and grime all over the floors. *shudder* I’m convinced I’m not alone in my revulsion. Just as no one is an atheist in the foxhole, everyone is a germaphobe on the metro.
At the end of the day, though, I like the idea of public transportation (even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the transportation itself). Seeing thirty people in a train car means that thirty cars were left in garages, parked on the street, or at someone’s parent’s house. Some were not purchased at all. Not to go all Martha Stewart on you, but it’s a good thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)