"Staples"

As planned, I completed my "admin" day by paying a visit to Safeway (for the third time in a week). For all of the organization methods I try to apply to our moving box chaos, I have not yet mastered the comprehensive shopping list. Luckily, we have three grocery stores within a short walk or drive.

Since we've lived in our apartment for almost three weeks, I decided that it was practically a crime to open the refrigerator and only find baby loaf of Tillamook cheddar, six bottles of beer, a jar of Grey Poupon, and some butter. While all of the above are tasty, we were starting to feel hard pressed for snacks and meals that didn't end with burrito or quesadilla. Pantry "staples" were desperately needed. Beans, tomatoes, rice and pasta were all on the list, especially since the weather turned a little cool and I'm in the mood for soups. I managed to fill up an entire grocery cart full of basic foods and fresh veggies. The guy at the checkout counter looked overwhelmed when I pulled into his aisle - as was I, since it looked like I was shopping for a family of 16.

I convinced myself that Tillamook Marionberry Pie ice cream could be considered a "staple" (especially since it was on sale). We thoroughly enjoyed our bowls after dinner last night. The ice cream is rich and creamy and the berry swirl and pie crust are divine. "Must be laced with crack," we said while laughing at our own lame Marion Barry jokes. Only a former D.C. resident (thoroughly steeped in the news of corruption) would get nostalgic about kooky politicians while eating delicious bowls of ice cream. Right at that moment I missed Washington a little, probably for the first time since I've been in Portland. Wait? Back to reality. Tillamook. Deliciousness.

Today I plan on hosting my own cooking marathon with all of the delicious things I picked up at the grocery store. I think chicken noodle soup and chili are on the menu. Maybe if I get ambitious, I'll make a batch of cookies. How very domestic of me!

48 Hours: A Photo Essay

Friday, we officially kicked off our moving box packing festivities. By Sunday evening our things were in a giant crate. If I actually wrote an entry on the whole process, it would be about 8 pages. So, the photos will have to do a bulk of the work.


"State of the Crate" as of Friday mid-evening. At this point Jesse declared "standardized boxes rule!"

Delirium set in around 11pm and we started assigning random names (kitchen-ma-bobbers) and placing totally ridiculous "items" to the box list. Yes, we do have a really ugly Christmas plate. No, I do not allow J to own nunchucks.

Here is the view of our lovely crate, delivered exactly 40 minutes earlier than scheduled. Also pictured is one of the 86 billion ass-face-haters who parked 3 inches from the door of our beautiful crate. I guess "EMERGENCY NO PARKING" means nothing to about 98% of D.C. drivers.



"State of the Crate" Sunday morning before the grand process of loading commenced.


Breakfast of champions for the crate-loaders. J cooked up a batch of eggs with Corralitos Cheesy Bavarian sausage that complimented leftover homemade beer bread and marionberry jam. Yum. J cheerfully offered to "do dishes."


This is the guy who snagged the stuff we deposited in our basement. He sold it on the sidewalk Sunday afternoon while we were packing our crate. I was weirded out at first, but then he helped us load our mattress, so we're cool.


"State of the Crate" on Sunday around 2pm. Almost full, but a few more things left to cram. We made it though. ONE CRATE.

This is the pool at the hotel where we stayed on Sunday night. My Mom booked the rooms for us earlier in the month and I thought she was crazy. I was wrong. We checked in at 3pm, did the deadman float until 4:00pm, had dinner then were back to the apartment to do some cleaning.

Our apartment after packing and a little cleaning. Still a bit more to go, but it's pretty darn empty.
Looks pretty much the same as when I first moved in, only I'm not the one passed out on the floor this time.

J is actually sleeping. I can hear him breathing. I'm pretty sure that means we should head back to the hotel.

It was our last day of work in D.C. today (Monday) and I couldn't be happier. Tomorrow we catch our plane to Portland. One-way tickets.
I can't wait.

Oh Crap! It's Friday, August 1st

Not that I didn't see this day coming, but wow, we're here. The crate will be delivered tomorrow, but we still have a boatload of packing to accomplish. Luckily though, we decided that it wouldn't be a great idea to leave a crate full of our stuff (even if it does have a padlock) sitting just blocks from 18th Street on a Saturday night. Drunk people + dark street + abandoned crate = bad news for Erin & Jesse. So, we'll be busy bees on Saturday packing and setting up for the big move on Sunday.

On the work front, I still have a ton to do, but I keep plugging away and hopefully will make lots of progress today. This morning, I am driving our intern around to take the last few photos that we need for the building inventory and draft report. Given that there are about 40 buildings and I have only allotted a 3-hour time frame, I don't think we will finish. So, we'll focus on some of the scarier areas of the city and next week, after I'm gone, he can finish up with public transportation.

However, my biggest challenge today is not the report, or the packing, but living with the 80 billion mosquito bites on the lower half of my legs. We went out to dinner with a friend on Wednesday night and apparently I sent out the "raw meat" signal and was eaten alive. Seriously, it's almost comical how many there are (and that's just the front of my legs...the backs probably have twice as many).

Benadryl and other hydrocortisone gels have not even begun to relieve the itching welts. This morning I woke up in a fit because I couldn't think about anything but removing my skin, so I got up and consulted "the Google." And? The white stuff? It's toothpaste, which worked until the peppermint wore off and I was right back to itching. Then I tried vinegar, rubbing pennies, and even a cut onion. Out of sheer desperation, I tried one final remedy. Windex. Why? Because it feels good and the internet told me to do it. I know (gasp) it's probably toxic (but not more so than the water we drink in D.C.) I'm not sure how, but the ammonia works magic on the stinging and itching. I wonder if it would be inappropriate to take pit stops on our morning driving trip and ask the intern to Windex my calves?

Morning Musings

Monday was a good day. I turned in the final chapter of my DC Modernism study to my boss for review. It was a huge relief. While there's still a lot of work to finish (edits, bibliography, footnotes, formatting), I feel pretty good about putting it to rest by Friday and handing it over to someone else to tweak and submit. Then, this afternoon I obtained the permit we need to park our storage crate on the street for the weekend. I also tied up some loose ends for my job interview next week (yikes), confirmed hotel reservations, cooked an awesome dinner, and sold a couple more items on Craigslist. Jesse was incredibly productive and cleaned out the closet, as well as put away some winter clothes that we definitely won't need before September.

See the list? Lots of things accomplished! So, why the heck am I awake at 4:30am? I had no trouble going to sleep (except for the happy jig I did for Jesse before retiring to bed). When I rolled over at 2:45am, shaking my fists in the air out of sheer frustration, I realized this time my lack of sleep is not coming from dread. For the first time since we started this moving process, I am truly excited - to the point of not sleeping. After tossing and turning for another 20 minutes, I decided to just get up and keep myself busy.

So far, the things I've accomplished between 3am and 4:15am:

• Cleaned out items underneath bathroom sink, which included about a dozen bars of hotel soap. I don't like hotel soap.
• Added item to above list: stage intervention with my husband about his random hoarding habits (soap, mobiles, what's next?)
• Had a snack of leftover pasta salad from our going away party this weekend (more on that another time, writing about it still makes me cry).
• Updated Quicken and our moving budget spreadsheet.
• Began organizing closet, but caused an avalanche of posters and wrapping paper tubes to fall on my head. Decided to do something a little more quiet - like blogging and more snacking.

So, here I am, alternating between my new (temporary) miniature desk and our couch that now lives in the middle of the apartment. We moved it there for a Craigslister to inspect and she'll pick it up this evening. There's at least another hour to go before the alarm goes off and Jesse and I go out for our morning exercise. I think lots of coffee should be on our "meals" menu for tomorrow. I dread the sun coming up, because that means back to work for me.

Date Night = Exhaustion

Romance was not in the air this date night. We picked up our happy hour pizza at Duccinis on the way home from work, sat down for a few minutes to unwind, and then were all business (or at least I was all business). I do recall blurting out "Hey YOU! Stay focused! This is not the time to read beer blogs and download music!"

First we tackled the stash of clothes under the bed. There was a lot of head scratching and statements like, "hmm, haven't seen that in a while," and "oh god, did that really fit me once upon a time?" and "who knew we had skinny midgets inhabiting the dark corners of our apartment...I wonder if they'll mind if we give away their clothes?" Needless to say, there's quite a bit that will be going to Goodwill tomorrow. Books, an old space heater, and the extra small kitchen appliances that we never abandoned when Jesse moved to my end of Columbia Rd. We made a lot of progress, as you can see. Thankfully, I'm so tired that I won't be able to even think of all the things I have to do tomorrow and Sunday.

For a fresh perspective on life, I took a step back into our entryway and realized that it looks like our walls barfed boxes and pure chaos. I chuckled at the thought of the 5 different occasions when people visited our "large studio" and probably had heart palpitations at the prospect of paying nearly $1500/month. I bet the management company can't wait until August 5th. Well, neither can I.

More Packing

Last night Jesse was out of the apartment at a concert with his friend, Dan. On a normal night, his absence would mean lots of sewing and catching up on my favorite TV shows. However, since we are getting down to the wire with packing (only 10 more days until our stuff is shipped out), I decided to use my energy for a more useful cause. I caught up on the first two episodes of the new season of Project Runway while packing miscellaneous kitchen items. Then, I realized that after Saturday, we won't have a television anymore. Oh well, guess I'll have to catch up when it comes out on DVD.

Anyway, Jesse came home around 11pm and noticed that the blue taped box looked drastically different. I rearranged a bunch of the boxes, moved the chest of drawers (myself), and packed up a lot of stuff. All of our books are now packed, as well as about half of our kitchen. I left out four plates, spoons, forks, and knives, as well as some basic cooking utensils for the next week or so. Everything else is stored away until September. Jesse thought opening all of the cabinets and drawers was a fun game - like Where's Waldo - pointing out all of the empty space. So, as of today, these are the things that were sold (or will be sold by Saturday):

In addition to the above items that will not make the trip, yesterday morning, a bowl fell from our dish rack bounced on the counter top and smashed apart on the floor. I looked at it, felt bad for about 3 seconds, and said "oh well, one less thing to pack." I think Jesse was slightly disturbed as I nonchalantly went about pouring my iced coffee, leaving the bowl on the floor to think about what it had just done. Seriously, I'm so ready to go.

To prep for the weekend, I ordered another round of boxes that should arrive by tomorrow afternoon. Friday night has been officially declared Date Night/Packing Fest. We have a rental car reserved on Saturday to deposit a giant pile of stuff to Goodwill, so there's very little time to finish sorting and organizing. I'll gladly sacrifice my date night, though, for a good cause. I DO love organizing.

Goodbye Self Doubt, We'll Take One Crate

We found out last week from our building manager that our apartment will rent for nearly $1500 a month. Our little studio! I nearly passed out. Apparently people have been clamoring to live in our building for weeks and at least 6 different people have seen the apartment since we gave notice exactly one week ago. I think it's time to get the heck out of here.

This weekend was epic. Lots of sorting, dusting, and making of piles. We accomplished an impressive amount of packing and most importantly reaffirmed that we will, in fact, will be taking one crate to Portland. Thank goodness. I really was worried about having to get an additional street permit for that second storage vault.

As you can see, the progress so far is promising. I readjusted the blue tape to fit the exact dimensions of our reserved crate and we moved around quite a bit of furniture to get the chest of drawers in the imaginary box. The cardboard boxes contain 95% of our books and all of our CD's (except for the few that Jesse may acquire in the next couple of weeks). I decided this evening at dinner that the chest of drawers needed to move to a different position within the blue box, but decided that Jesse needed one more bourbon and soda before I broached the subject. Tomorrow, the box will have a slightly different appearance. Over time, I hope our apartment will start to look empty, rather than like it barfed our posessions all over every horizontal surface.

As of this weekend, these are the things we no longer own:

What Was I Thinking?

Yesterday, our first dozen boxes arrived. Since Jesse was stuck in the airport for most of the evening, I decided to start packing up books. After boxing up an entire bookshelf, I stared at the empty space and felt good. What an accomplishment! Then I looked over at the 4 book boxes on the floor and did a quick calculation in my head. Oh God! We have at least 7 more boxes of books that need to fit in that tiny blue box in the corner. Ahh. I remember two months ago when I was all doe-eyed and optimistic (and totally deluded) about cramming all of our stuff into a crate and shipping it across the country. Reality is such an ugly beast.

Jesse didn't get in until 2:30am and was shocked to find me up and totally wired. Leaving me unattended in the apartment with empty boxes is such a bad idea. I relayed my fears to him that we weren't going to make it all fit. He said, "well, we'll just get two crates." Stunned, I thought "why would he say such a thing when he KNOWS I am determined to only have one crate." Shaking my fists, I climbed into bed (and I'm sure he breathed a sigh of relief because I had finally stopped talking).

If my calculations are correct (and I'm pretty sure they're not that far off), our moving crate inventory will look something like this:

• One Queen mattress, no box spring or bed frame.
• One mahogany chest of drawers that could hold approximately 2% of our clothes.
• One Ikea kitchen table, disassembled, no chairs.
• More Fiestaware than a household of two should own.
• A Kitchen Aid mixer and some fancy-pants pots and pans that we were lucky enough to receive as a wedding gift.
• 3,000 pounds of books.
• 1,500 pounds of CDs.
• One sewing machine, a bit of fabric, and some thread.
• A blanket - no room for pillows or sheets.
• One ginormous clothes drying rack courtesy of my Mom from Amish country.

If you come to visit us in Portland, you may be forced to sleep on a bare, twin-sized aero bed and sit on the "Music A through Eels" box at dinner - chairs are highly overrated and really won't fit in with our "hobo chic" decor. In exchange for the sparse accommodations, we'd be more than happy to air-dry your entire wardrobe in our living room.

Things I Will (and Will Not) Miss in D.C. #9: The Microwave that Hates My Guts

Monday morning I posted our microwave and television on Craigslist in an effort to begin the purging process. I thought for sure it would be a slow sell. Within 45 minutes, I had 3 inquiries and even one person willing to bump up the selling price by $10. Bidding wars. On a microwave?

Maybe it's Samsung's sleek stainless steel look, or it's 1100 watt power cooking capacity, or its 10 power settings. The motivations behind the desire for my microwave may never be disclosed. I am still in awe.

Not unlike my miserable stove, this appliance plots to kill me nearly every week. But rather than torch my poor cakes to a crisp, it chips away slowly at my soul with its incessant beeping once cooking has finished. Every 30-45 seconds that you leave your plate in the blasted thing, "BEEP BEEP." It serves no purpose, this "BEEP BEEP." It's not like an oven timer that necessitates chirping or your dinner might catch fire. I have gotten to the point where I yell back at it, in it's annoying mechanical tone "SHUT UP" and "HATE YOU" and "DIE NOW" (or any other expletives that occur to me at the time) and then open and slam the door to stop the damn "BEEP BEEP."

I did not include in my Craigslist description why I hate this particular fixture in our kitchen. It's fatal flaw is not a defect really. In fact, it's quite the opposite - some microwave engineer designed it to be just the way it is. So, I'm not legally bound to disclose it's totally annoying beeper (or dinger or chimer or chirper) when I say "looks great and in perfect working condition." When the Craigslister comes over this week to trade cash for my nemesis, I will give a silent cheer.

Goodbye, Samsung MW1080STA microwave oven. You will not be missed!

Firsts (and Seconds and Thirds)

Sunday night I made Jesse open up a small part of his birthday gift early. Ta da! A roll of packaging tape. Aren't I thoughtful? And generous! What more could a man want for his 30th birthday?! To celebrate, we packed up two boxes of CD's. This beauty is the first of many boxes to be sealed and crammed. Goodbye CD's. We'll see you in September.

For the record, the tape is awesome, but it's definitely not going to make labeling any faster. He spent about 10 minutes just coloring in all of the lines. The outcome was pretty cool though, "Music - A through Eels." Nothing but the best for our move! Unfortunately, all of the packing materials we acquired this weekend are taking up precious space in the giant blue box. So, the boxes of music are stored right next to Jesse's side of the bed where he can keep an eye on their status.

Speaking of the blue boxes, yesterday I reserved our crate (with slightly different dimensions, so I'll have to re-tape this weekend for accuracy). Our plan is to pack the taped box perfectly so when the crate arrives the Saturday before our move, we'll know that everything has its place. We also gave notice to our apartment yesterday, so it's official. We have to leave. There's no turning back (unless we want to set up a cardboard box fort in the alley behind our building).

Oh, and yesterday I received word that my first phone interview with the architectural firm in Portland went pretty well. The second interview will likely be over the phone with the head of the Preservation/Conservation department in San Francisco, and the third (in person)interview, is scheduled for August 7th! But I don't have time to worry about that now, only 24 days until I'm out of here! Oh boy, I can't wait.

A Quick Break from Life

This weekend we drove to Philadelphia to visit my parents and to pick up a few of my things. As usual, we never make it out of my Mom & Dad's house without a car packed full of stuff. We scored big time in the moving paper/boxes department and can now really start thinking about packing. The weekend was a lot more than just a quick trip to pick up stuff. It was the last visit to Philadelphia before we head out to Portland - and maybe the final visit to the city since my parents may be moving themselves.

We arrived on Thursday afternoon and had a wonderful dinner at our favorite microbrewery, Iron Hill. With full bellies walked over to the local high school for some pre-July 4th fireworks. Friday was pretty relaxing, my mom and I went out shopping and Jesse and my Dad stayed at home and talked about sports and other dude stuff.

Saturday, we set out for Amish country near Lancaster, PA since Jesse and I had never been. It was a beautiful drive with pristine farms for miles. We had an early lunch at Good 'n Plenty, which is a family-style restaurant serving some local favorites, such as "ham loaf." The loaf defies description (cut like a meatloaf, but very different in taste and texture). It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. The menu item that more than made up for the ham loaf was their fried chicken (some of the best I've tasted), mashed potatoes, and browned buttered noodles.

The weirdest thing about the day (other than the ham loaf) was driving along the main roads behind little black carriages that were driven by the Amish. The horses were surprisingly well-behaved, considering the close proximity to passing cars, but there were a couple of times when we had to cover our eyes to avoid seeing a couple of pretty close calls. I've seen plenty of photos of the carriages and the people, but they don't do the experience justice. It is such a strange feeling to gaze as they went about their everyday "normal" lives.

I say "normal" because, well, they don't use machinery and refuse electricity. But also, they named their towns Intercourse and Bird-in-Hand and Paradise. My Dad and Jesse schooled themselves on the "Milestones in the Life of the Village of Intercourse" while my mom and I perused a quilt shop and museum. Fact: there were exactly zero milestones between 1924 (when the first bus line was established) and 1951 (when dial telephones were installed in Intercourse). Oh and 1966 was a big year for the town when "Eros Publishers, a pornography business, is turned down in its efforts to establish Intercourse as their mailing address."

The weekend was such a nice break from the intensity of Washington. We've been pretty frantic lately trying to accomplish all of our moving tasks by August 5th. For a few days, I was actually able to relax and take a breather. The downtime was definitely needed to energize for the next days to come!

Too Perfect?

Last night I relayed the story of my job interview to my parents and then to J, so I didn't have the strength to do it for a third time on my blog. Luckily, I slept like a log and this morning woke up refreshed and ready to kick butt at work. As I mentioned yesterday, the job interview went really well. It was pretty standard in terms of questions, and luckily I had prepared myself for just that.

Ok, Rewind.

The Background:
The company is an architectural firm headquartered in San Francisco and they have done quite a few interesting projects. They specialize in historic buildings and seem to be expanding beyond California to include the Pacific Northwest. The Portland office was just opened about 6-8 months ago. I randomly sent them my resume (one of probably about 12 or 15 that I have sent out so far) indicating that I'd be moving to Portland in August and would be looking for career opportunities. I totally didn't expect to hear back from them, but last week I was contacted about potentially joining the company.

The Time Frame:
The best part of the whole interview was when I found out that they won't have full time work for me until after September 1st. What? Too perfect! I really don't want to work until after September 1st! Jesse and I will be able to take that month-long vacation that we've been planning. I certainly could use the relaxation!

At the end of the phone interview, we talked a bit about the next steps and how the in-person interview process would go. First, I'd meet with the head of the Portland office and then would interview with the principals in San Francisco. There weren't any promises made, but I think the discussion of flying me to California sometime in August is a pretty good sign!

DC Summer + My Monday = Very Sweaty Armpits

I have been dreading today: Monday, June 30, 2008. Before now, every time I thought about it, I would comfort myself by repeating how far away that dreaded day was on the calendar.

But this morning at 5am, I sat up and said "Well, hello, June 30th! You sure did get here fast." Today was the day I had to have the conversation with my boss about leaving at the end of July. As Laura Cantrell would say, this "pile of woe" hit hard and left me frazzled when I arrived at the office unusually early. My boss came in late to work today, which left me to stew even longer at my desk. There, the two cups of coffee and adrenaline banded together in a plot to kill me. After coaxing myself to stop shaking, I asked her to meet and it went fairly well (except for the whole telling your boss you're quitting part).

She didn't pull out all of her hair (as I had convinced myself that she would), but at the same time she didn't say anything either. I'm pretty convinced it was a textbook case of shock. I thought about making her lie down on the conference room table and wrapping her in a blanket. At least that made made me chuckle as the tears were welling up at my desk. I was pretty much brain-dead after that and proceeded to stare at my computer screen for the rest of the day. That is, until I had to prepare for my telephone interview at 6pm.

Luckily my life coach (Jesse) schooled me on the trickster questions that potential employers spring on unsuspecting interviewees. Questions like, "what is your greatest weakness," and "tell me about your work ethic." Huh? Weakness? I have none, duh. Don't worry, I had a premeditated answer that was pretty darn good. Oh you want to know what my weaknesses are? Well, too bad. I'm not telling. That is, unless you're willing to pay me a salary.

I think the job interview went pretty well, but the potential job deserves it's own post.

A Watched Pot Never Boils

Or is it a washed pot never boils? Either way, last week was pretty stressful, leading to a mini breakdown at the office. This weekend I decided to pull myself together, got a lot of work done on my big project, and came into work reinvigorated on Monday. Yesterday, I kicked butt and was a report-writing machine.

Apparently, this double rainbow over Washington was a result of last night's thunderstorms. I like to think it came out as a reward for my solid 10-hour day at work, but I'm pretty sure I can't take credit for its presence. Regardless, look how amazing it is! You know what else is amazing? We booked our tickets to Portland this morning. One-way tickets to the West Coast. There's no turning back now. On Tuesday, August 5th we will take our final taxi ride as residents of the District of Columbia and will board the plane for our great adventure.

Oh and what about that watched pot? Today, I got an email from an architectural firm that wants to talk about the possibility of me joining their office in Portland. I'm actually quite excited because of all the firms that received my unsolicited resume, this is one that I was really excited about. Of course, nothing is set. I haven't even set up a time for them to call, but I am re-energized knowing that I might not have to work at McDonald's to pay rent (yeah right, who am I kidding - they'd never hire me).

Even just the prospect of having something waiting for me there feels pretty darn good. If not, oh well, at least I'll have another really good contact for my "Portland Jobs" file.

Scenes from A Date Night

This past Friday (date night) was spent with a few of Jesse's coworkers at a going away celebration for one of his colleagues. The restaurant was nice, but the scene was weird with odd tension between some of the people there. It seems like a developing pattern with AED, always ruining my date nights! As a result, I can honestly say that losing contact with a majority of them would not be a terrible thing. I was glad when we bowed out early to watch an episode of Northern Exposure.

Last Friday's date was a lot more fun and started a few hours early to catch the Euro Cup game between the Netherlands and France. The soccer game was pretty exciting and left us feeling energized enough to walk out in the blazing heat to pick up our olive and pepperoni pizza.

Once our bellies were full, I convinced Jesse that a proper game-filled date night should not only include watching games, but playing games too. He suggested a full-on Yahtzee tournament, but I countered with a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit. In a moment of weakness, he agreed. Anyone who has ever played Trivial Pursuit knows that it can literally go on for ages. Being the enthusiast that I am, I refuse to let go until someone at least has all the colors in their wheel. Unfortunately, I am the worst at the Sports and Leisure category, so after filling up all of my colors, I was stuck with no hope for ever winning that final green wedge. By the time we neared the end, Jesse couldn't even hold his head up to read the questions.

I think I'll have to wait a while to get my fill of trivia again, but it was fun while it lasted. I don't think there will be many more leisurely date nights for a while, given that July's weekends are booked solid. That leaves us with Friday nights to get some serious packing and cleaning done. Yikes! Is it really almost July?!

Indeed it is. Only 39 more days to go!

Brasilliant's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today was a day that made me, as some would say, "lose my shit." It was just your average Monday until I got to work, opened up my weekly planner and saw the number 46 (that's the number of days until my last day of work). Yay. Then I flipped the page to next week, and saw "give notice." Wow, that's painful. Granted, I submitted my first 3 (of 6) chapters of the DC Modernism study to my boss last week. As of today, she still hasn't read through it, which is seriously making me lose my mind. I don't think I can stress enough how inadequate I feel about doing this whole thing, but deep breath. Ok.

Jesse sensed my stress today and suggested that we have lunch on his roof deck at work. It was a lovely hour spent eating our sandwiches, gazing out over the city, and seriously getting the best pep talk I've had in a while. If this whole non-profit research & evaluation thing doesn't work out, motivational speaker/life coach might be a good option for him. I went back to work energized and ready to kick ass. And I did, for about 2 hours.

Then the afternoon slump (around 3:30) reared its ugly head, and in no time, I was ready to jump off my balcony. As tears welled up in my eyes (from anger no less) I sent Jesse an instant message that went something like this : SOS, want to die, why does work hate my guts? I was promptly instructed to take a walk to the drug store to buy earplugs, Reese's pieces, and a coke. It was a nice opportunity for me to feel sorry for myself, cry a little (once on the way, and then once again when I had to buy M&M's instead of Reese's), and pull myself together. I like to think of myself as a practical person, and seriously, this girly flubbery behavior does not fit within the realm of emotions that I am prepared to handle.

About 30 minutes before I was ready to head home, the sky opened and released a torrent of rain, thunder, and lightning. It was raining so hard (in a way that Washington excels in the summer) that it was bouncing back up from the sidewalk under my skirt. In my usual timely manner, I forgot my umbrella and decided to take the bus home with the other 87 bazillion residents of D.C. Long story short, I had to wait for 4 buses to pass by before I actually got home. When I walked in the door, Jesse immediately took my bags, gave me a giant hug, and handed me a plate of leftover vegetable lasagna and a glass of wine. I cried again, partially because of my day, and partially because geez, I certainly did find a keeper.

Two glasses later, I have calmed down enough to reflect on my day. Yeah, it still was one of the worst I've had in a long time, but at least its over. Oh, and we still have enough leftover lasagna for an 8-person family, but it is quite delicious. At least I'm good at that!

Things I Will (and Will Not) Miss in D.C. #7: Air Quality Index - Code Red!

At 8:02am today it was already 86° and the temperature is climbing. Apparently, we may hit the double digits by the afternoon (and I'm not even thinking about the heat index). The past 3 or 4 days have made me feel like melting, even in the early morning. If this weekend is any indicator of how the rest of the summer is going to unfold, our remaining 53 days in D.C. may prove to be quite miserable.

YES, WE ONLY HAVE 53 MORE DAYS!

According to an Alert D.C. Email this morning, Code Red air quality days are declared when there is stagnant air, little chance of rain, high humidity, and temperatures above 95°. Essentially, anyone who cares to breathe should stay inside and pray that their air conditioner doesn't explode from working overtime. I feel as though D.C. is giving us a little goodbye present (or swift kick out the door) with this lovey stretch of swamp weather.

On days like today I'm remind that we are, in fact, living below the Mason-Dixon line. I also really do understand why people in the south move like snails - otherwise they might just catch on fire. Although, on the plus side, if you did spontaneously ignite I'm pretty sure the sweat pouring down your body would squelch the flames.

I don't think we've had temperatures and humidity this high since my first summer as an intern in 2003. I distinctly remember sobbing on my way to work some mornings because I was so sweaty and hot (I only lived 3 blocks from the office at the time). My friend Lauren and I would gather at the water cooler, fan ourselves, and compare sweat stains that ran from the collar of our shirts all the way down our spines. If we were lucky, the perspiration under our arms wouldn't connect to the stripe down our backs. It was during our summer internship that we coined the phrase "sweattin' like a fat man." If you've ever visited D.C. between June and August, you'll know exactly what I mean.

As a side note, yesterday in Portland it was 66° and crystal clear. As I shake my fists at weather.com wondering how life could be so cruel, I try to remind myself that we're in the home stretch.

We are in the home stretch. We are in the home stretch....

**3:30pm Update**

I had to walk to the post office to mail more packages and decided to check out the trusty Suntrust Bank thermometer in Dupont Circle. Code Red Indeed!

Organizing the Apartment: An Initial Survey

About 4 weeks ago, the Washington Post began a series of articles called "Organizing the Attic." The articles follow the Post's deputy editor for the Home section as she embarks on controlling the chaos on her top floor. I've been religiously reading the weekly entries and anxiously awaiting the teaser lines for the next week's topic. Last week, organizing holiday decorations, was not very useful since I don't really have any in our tiny apartment. However, this week's post about organizing books could not have been more timely.

Given that we only have 56 more days until lift off, last weekend Jesse and I decided to start unravelling the chaos of stored items in the apartment. The idea of packing up all of our stuff was a little overwhelming, so we decided we had to start somewhere. We couldn't know what to toss and what to keep if we had no clue what was stored in the depths of our "organization." So we decided to divide and conquer. Jesse burrowed into our walk-in closet and I got started on the books. Like the editor of the Washington Post articles, I'd like to be able to easily use my husband as a scapegoat for the shelves of books around our home, but alas, I too came into this relationship with a lot of book baggage. And since we both contributed to the problem, we both had to make decisions about which books we thought we might actually use again. It felt good to go through the titles that we hadn't read in a while, and to stumble on the total head-scratchers like the duplicate copies of three different volumes of Foucault.

Most of my Saturday afternoon was spent flipping through dusty pages, assessing their condition, and posting them on Amazon's Marketplace. I was astonished how many we sold in just 24 hours (this photo shows only half of what I sent out this week). We both wondered why we hadn't done this a long time ago, but then realized that we probably would have spent the cash on gadgets or beer. So, the moral of the story is that hoarding actually worked in our favor this time. All of those books that were just collecting dust might actually pay for one of our plane tickets to Portland. Sweet!

Next step: the CD collection (insert evil laugh). I liked The Crane Wife's post Wednesday about taming the wild music beast, but I imagine I'd incite an all-out mutiny on Columbia Road if I advocated the philosophy of "in with the old." And, to Jesse's credit, he does purge the collection occasionally. So, for now, I'm hoping for a system of storage that doesn't include the double-deep layering thing that makes it nearly impossible to access entire letters of the alphabet!

60 More Days

This weekend marked a milestone. It's time. We're ready. And it's only 60 days away (yes I have counted).

We let the cat out of the bag at our happy hour at Angles on Friday. It's amazing how much information you will divulge after 2 beers and no dinner (in this particular instance, I was not the giant blabber mouth). J told several of his coworkers and former coworkers about our time frame for moving to the West Coast. I have to say, it felt pretty good.

Back in April, we set a tentative date of July 31st, but only shared the deadline with a select few. While we have talked freely with our families about specific plans for moving, we've been holding our cards close with our friends and coworkers in D.C. Mostly, we didn't want to cause unnecessary drama and speculation, but also, until recently we really weren't entirely sure when we would take the plunge.

The turning point in our decision was the trip to G graduation. Even though our time in California was incredibly short, we both totally forgot about our stress at home. I slept like a log (an occurrence that has eluded me for the past two months) and J was much more relaxed.

Reality set in this morning at work when I created my time sheet for June. Oh Crap! We're really doing this and I have to tell my boss my plans in exactly 30 days! I also have to finish my DC Modernism study, which is most likely the cause of my sleepless nights. But nothing like a deadline to give you a swift kick in the butt right?

The thought of all the things we need to do in 60 days gives me hives. However, J has been the keeper of sanity and manager of my mini meltdowns, so for that I am grateful. Hopefully in a couple of weeks, I'll be rocking the Portland air guitar as well!

Things I Will (and Will Not) Miss in D.C. #5: Our Neighborhood (Part 2) - Angles Bar

We found out about Angles Bar from one of Jesse's coworkers nearly 2 years after we moved into our apartment. She wanted to meet there for happy hour on a Friday after work. It was a joyous Friday because we found a spot on noisy 18th Street that really felt like home. They have a delicious amber bock beer (Angles Amber) that is only $2 a pint at happy hour. For a while, we were meeting there nearly every Friday night. In no time, the bartenders knew our names and would just bring over two pints whenever we would sit down at the bar. The last time we were there, I looked around, and realized that Jesse and I were probably the youngest ones in the room. For clarification, we usually hit the bar early and pass out by 10pm. The ideal evening involves food, drink, and mass exodus before all the 18th Street crowd arrives. I like to be in my small, quiet, and safe apartment before the "whordes" decend upon Adams Morgan. Luckily, our early timeframe coincides perfectly with the regulars crowd (a mixture of old and middle-age bachelors who live in the neighborhood). They are sometimes curmudgeonly (as I aspire to be), but mostly accepting and willing to bullshit with you on just about any topic.

Our love affair with Angles has continued to blossom and eventually we shifted our visits to Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday for the 2 for 1 burger deals. Angles is situated above a really nice restaurant called The Little Fountain Cafe, so all of the bar food comes straight from the cafe's kitchen. Now, I love a good burger, but these are outstanding burgers - worth every penny of their $10 regular price. And the fries, oh the fries, are like heaven. Wash it all down with an Angles Amber and you're set. We seriously think twice before ordering burgers anywhere else because a) they would pale in comparison and b) it kind of feels like cheating.

This past fall, Angles switched up the menu to add a really good homemade veggie burger, a smoked salmon burger, and nightly specials. In the winter, the specials included items like open face turkey sandwiches, roast beef, shepherd's pie, and the best lasagna with bolognese I have ever tasted. On our way home from Graham-uation, we were trying to figure out what to do about dinner. Then, Jesse got a twinkle in his eye and we both said in unison "beer and burgers Sunday dinner!" We hadn't had burgers in months (due to the delicious winter specials) so it was just like trying one for the first time. It was every bit as good as I remembered.

We went back there again tonight to meet the same coworker for her birthday. It was delicious and fun. We waved goodbye to the bartenders, Norm and Anita, and on our 1-block walk home I remembered one of the reasons why I will really miss D.C.