Summer 2012 - Day 1

Whoa, that flight sucked some serious ass. No, really. So I totally thought I would sleep, but I forgot how dehydrating it is to not eat, and I didn't have any water with me. I thought that I could make it until the drink cart came by, but I didn't realize how freaking long that would be. Then, after consuming my tomato juice and two cups of water, I was completely restless, my right shoulder hurt, and everything was tingly. The last thing was pretty distressing, and I tried to relieve it by walking around the airplane, but I could only do that for so long. I did listen to some music, and have now heard more Adele and Amy Winehouse songs, so I'm a little more caught up to speed with the pop culture and whatnot. Eventually, the flight was finished, and I was on the ground in DC, only to remember that I was leaving both the Berkeley Bubble, AND the VBCA* Bubble. In the former, the politics are aligned with my own (for the most part), and in the latter, no one talks about politics at all. I sent a text message to my roommate, wondering just how afraid I should be.

I also thought, as I departed the plane, that I would get a food item on the way out, remembering that buying airport food upon arrival was a bit silly, but I was certain that my body pain was from lack of nutrients. However, standing, and walking on the ground, as opposed to within a little metal tube, were relieving my body pain, and none of the food sellers seemed to be selling breakfasty foods, so I headed in the direction of Ground Transportation. This direction took me to a tram, which was sort of confusing, until I realized that this is how Dulles was set up. The tram at Dulles was immediately recognizable as superior to the tram at SFO, mainly because there were more bars on the walls to hold on to, and the bars in the middle kind of flared out into three bars, creating more surface area for people to grab. At SFO, the only bars on the wall are 2 feet off the ground, which I guess is good for Little People and children, but that leaves out a big part of the riding populace. Then, we started moving, and I noticed that the tram was way faster than the one in SFO, and thus was just better. During this time, I was texting my friend's husband, who would be picking me up. I gave him the play by play of my tram ride, then he called me, and we figured out where to meet, even though I was very loopy from lack of sleep.

It was raining in DC, overcast, and humid, and the flags were at half staff, or mast, or whatever. Friend's Husband arrived, in a blue SUV, eventually, and we rode off into Maryland, where they live. Friend's Husband and I settled into a good raport, and discussed many things. I learned that he already despised people from Virginia, only after living in Maryland for less than one year. We stopped and got his bike, then were off to Silver Springs. As we rode into town, I noticed a Viginia license plate that boasted that Virginia was "400 years old", based on the founding date of the colony, which I immediately recognized as effing cheating. This was, according to Friend's Husband, just one of the many reasons to dislike Virginians. Then I noticed the giant fin extending from a nearby building, and learned that the building was the Discovery network headquarters, that they were promoting Shark Week, and that there were other shark parts sticking out of other parts of the building.

See the shark fin in the upper left.

We arrived at the apartment building, and went up "the back way" which was apparently, somewhat ghetto. I explained that, where I live, you might find yourself at the corner store next to someone begging the cashier "for just an extra dollar, please man, I gotta have it" so that they could purchase the large container of alcohol they were holding, in order to assure Friend's Husband that I am not afraid. We entered the apartment and continued to talk, then I met Loki, their 20-pound cat. Friend emerged from the shower, and we talked some more. Eventually, we left to go get breakfast and ended up at a place that tried to insert the word "egg" into every possible menu item. Interestingly, among their burger selection, they did not have a burger with a fried egg on it, which is a menu item at The Vault, a breakfast place near my apartment in Berkeley. But we consumed the food, paid, and set off back to the apartment.

During this time, my roommate texted me back and informed me that I should be very afraid. In fact, he would be cocooning himself in the Berkeley Bubble for the rest of the year after his recent trip to San Diego.

Time passed, or maybe not, and we got in a different Zipcar and were off to Friend's employer so she could show me around, and so we could eat the free food, since there was some kind of party thing going on that day. Friend works for [Military Branch], and she got us in, and showed me some things that she does - it was all very cool. Then we left, and went off to the little festival, passing by the now-notable Commissary. (I had only learned what a Commissary was from a very recent comment thread on Facebook about Friend's workplace.) It was civilian-clothes-day, but some people were still wearing [Military Branch] clothes. We got in a line really quickly, since it was the line for food, but when we got to the food, we realized that we were there at the wrongish time. Still, I had a pulled pork/sloppy joe kind of sandwich, baked beans, and a piece of watermelon, courtesy of [Military Branch], and I ate it. We also talked with Friend's co-workers from [Military Branch], and then met Friend's boss from [Military Branch]. Despite the low battery on my phone, I made sure to get some video of the live, steel drum band that they had playing, because I could just hear the protests from my father if he found out that I got to see a steel drum band and DIDN'T get video footage.

Then we left the party, and went back to the Zipcar, and went back to the apartment. Since I hadn't really slept on Thursday night, I started a nap. I got up at one point, walked out into the hall, found out that it was 10:30, then went right back to sleep, thus ending Day 1.

*VBCA stands for "Very Big Corporation of America", which is how I refer to my workplace when posting things online. Ten points if you know the origin of the name (aside from the fact that my employer is, in fact, a very big corporation, headquartered in America).