Dirt and Dust

So I think I might be getting older. That just so happened to be one of those ever-so-'profound' thoughts that ran through my head just a few moments ago. I don't know what it is, but I definitely think I am older than yesterday. What a sham: I want my money back. Speaking of profundities (what??? Great Scott! profundities is actually a word- I thought I just pulled that out of my...); anyhow, where was I? Oh that's right: profundities; while I was putting apple-butter on my bread today the question occurred to me, "Can you put apple-butter on bread that has already been buttered?" The question still haunts me.

In other news, can you tell I have been reading a punctuation (not a grammar) book on my to and from work? Look at me rock those semicolons!

As far as work goes, today my boss called all of us in declaring, "We must have these spreadsheets done as soon as possible." To which I responded, "I did mine yesterday." She gave me an appraising look, told me to start working on the charts and maps, and then I left promptly left early for the day. Life is great when you are not getting paid to work. If you haven't already tried it, I suggest giving it a whirl. (Thanks mom and dad.)

A few days ago, before I was about to leave work and hop on the train, the news flashed and said that there had been a devastating crash on the red line- the line I take- in DC. I knew that the trains would be backed up so I took the time to wander around Dupont Circle, up and down Connecticut street, and through the park so I could people watch. Eventually, I did catch a train home. If I had not been on my computer checking the news, I may not have known about the accident at all; I certainly wondered if the people riding with me had learned of it. In the two and a half weeks I have been here, there has been a hate-based shooting and now a devastating accident. While I know certainly that many people have been affected by these deaths, but sometimes it chills me to think about how efficiently we, as a population, rearrange after these tragedies.

While my body is in DC, my head has still been firmly rooted in Iran these past few days. Check out Nico Pitney's blog on huffingtonpost.com. He's provided probably the best coverage of the events going on in Tehran and in the surrounding area.

I'd like to end with some haiku:

I am trying hard
to write intelligently
"intelligently"

Hey, I thought it was pretty good. Don't think about it too hard.

"No more grey today, we gonna celebrate"

Breaking news: some young intern flips his bike while riding home from the metro station. Several bruises and scrapes have surfaced as a result of the incident, with a small Harry Potter-esque laceration across the forehead. The biggest casualty of the day: pride suffered a tumble from its seemingly indomitable position. The question has been asked, "was the pant leg rolled up or left dangling at normal position?" This author refuses to answer in risk of further embarrassment.

Yes, I managed to somehow flip my bike on a seemingly flat piece of pavement, flying well over my handlebars and landing mostly on my chest. Fortunately, my bag flung up and provided a cushion between my head and the ground. My life did not flash before my eyes but I do remember thinking, "I really hope nobody is watching." My wish was granted: no one was watching (I think).

Aside from embarrassing myself yet again, I have been having a great experience in DC. Currently for work, I am analyzing the State Department's recently published Trafficking in Persons report. All I can say is that I know what you did in Burkina Faso so watch out.

My roommate, See-yin, moved in on Thursday night. While I definitely have enjoyed the solitude, it should be nice to have another friend around.

I wore green yesterday. No, I am not lowering myself into announcing my wardrobe every day, but yesterday it had particular significance. While the official reports from Iran say that only maybe a dozen or so persons have died in Iran in the past week, it is not hard to look through that veil and see the hundreds of people who have gone missing all because they have chosen to express their opinion. Ahmadenijad and Khamenei have torn a rift through Iran by their indifference to the needs of their people. Therefore, I wore green yesterday.

Green, being the color of the supporters of Mousavi, has in ways, now become the color for freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of choice- simply put, freedom- in Iran. The past week I have spent glued to my computer watching what will unfold next for a country that has shown that it is ready for that freedom. Perhaps what is most remarkable is that Mousavi is not even considered a reformist candidate. Mousavi is what we would consider a "moderate". But while he does not represent perhaps an overhall of the system, he does represent the peoples' ability to choose. And now, when their choice has been so blatantly taken away from them, many in Iran have decided that it is time for a change.

I was disappointed that I saw hardly anyone in DC answer Mousavi's call to wear green on Friday, but perhaps that will change when more people become more aware of the deaths that are occuring in Iran. Hopefully, someday, we too can learn to appreciate the freedoms for which long ago we have fought. Iranians, after all, are not like Americans- they have not sat by quietly and watched an election be robbed from them (*2000 cough cough).

I have said my peice. Allahu Akbar.

Song of the Day: I love the Rain Most, Joe Purdy

"aint this just like the present, to be showing up like this"

There's a flaw in my travel plans. Although I get from A to B quite well, and quite quickly considering the distance, I forgot to account for the absolute geeky look I pull off while riding my bike to the Metro Station. Why might you ask? Two words: bike chain. The bike chain on my bike might be the best source of humility I have ever met- in order for me to make it to the Metro Station quickly AND without grease stains up and down my pants, I have to roll one pant leg up. Today, I considered briefly stuffing my pant into my sock. Fortunately, that is still beneath me.

But there I am- one pant leg rolled up exposing a surprisingly hair leg and whatever putrid-colored, calf-length sock I could find that day. Like I said, pretty humbling when you're rolling up past the local college kids.

In reality, I try to pretend all day that I'm not one of the 500,000 interns running around this city but there's just something about the khakis, messenger bag, and 16 year old looks that just give me away. I still try to hold myself to a better standard than others- I pretend to scoff like the locals at the people who pull their travel guides out to consult maps: "psshhh, that dude is loooost". (I make sure to only pull mine out when nobody is looking.)

Two songs got me through the day: Blood Bank by Bon Iver (www.myspace.com/boniver) and Blessed by Brett Dennen (www.myspace.com/brettdennen).

Andrew Jackson, all I'm asking..

I broke down today and ended up just dumping Lysol on the bathroom floor. There's a stink in there that I just can't seem to search out. Perhaps the worst thing about it is that I have absolutely no idea what the smell is. Or maybe worse, that I have no idea where it is coming from. I think it's the bathroom, but at sometimes I swear it's simply emanating from all parts of the apartment. Anyway, I went out and bought more air fresheners.

The place I'm living in- I won't call it home until it smells a bit more like me- is a decent graduate housing building. It's at least in a fairly safe neighborhood, and nobody has shanked me on the way to the metro stop yet. Anyhow, it's what you'd expect of neglected graduate housing- it's an apartment version of the freshman dorms poor first years have to suffer through. At any rate, I've attacked the bathroom and my bedroom with Lysol, two sponges, a scrubber, some ajax, and various other toxic chemicals. I'm crossing my fingers that nothing's growing on the wall anymore. I'm not complaining by any means though- $300 in D.C. is a steal.

I'm interning with a group called The Protection Project (www.protectionproject.org). My job? I'm helping compile a manual to train persons assisting human trafficking victims in Qatar. What does that entail? Well, that's not nearly as glamourous- I sit at a computer and search for previously used manuals that I'll eventually compile to create a super-duper-awesome manual.

Really, when I think about it, I'm not in D.C. for the internship. Granted, it's an amazing opportunity, and definitely will help me in the future but just being in the city is a fantastic time. A few of my fellow interns seem to forget that they are allowed to enjoy themselves, while a few others constantly have the look of "why am I here?" Several of them are diplomats' kids, several are from other countries, several are Georgetown law grads- overall it's a pretty incredible mix of talent....maybe I'm one of those people with the "why am I here?" face.

I miss friends and family, but I'm enjoying the opportunity to be on my own in a new place. It gives me time and space to simply think- and I often get lost in all of the monuments, buildings, people.

This posting is getting long so I'll cut it off.

Song of the Day: Jacksonville by Sufjan Stevens. http://music.aol.com/song/jacksonville/6704799
Special prize to the person who guesses why.