I got my first piece of mail at my new address! I love it because in addition to the fact that it's from my loverly friend Brittany who I haven't seen for ages, it's a letter. A what, you say? Yes, an old-fashioned, hand-written letter with a pretty little stamp. After years and years of email, it is so nice to actually hold some tangible communication in my hand. There is definitely something about it that I will to continue to appreciate, especially as the anticipation of receiving contact from people decreases as our instant gratification increases with smart phones and the like. Oh, and the letter is written in scribbly cursive. How cute is she?
Last night, I had the chance to see my friends who live in the city and check out the downtown nightlife. This was lamely the first weekend that I actually turned off the Discovery Channel, stood up my lazy butt, and got out like a normal 20-something since I moved here. It was fun to squeeze 5 people into a cab, discuss crocodiles and midgets with our cabbie, and walk past strips of trendy bars. Despite the hot, sweaty, smelliness of the crowded club we chose and the $5 beer ("welcome to DC" was the response to my dismay of my debit card receipt), we were able to boogie to some old school tunes. It was a refreshing change from the generally bad quality pop music usually heard in clubs. A segment of our sing-along soundtrack went something like:
"my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun!" --> "I don't wanna lose your love toniight!" --> "I traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for somethin"--> "I can call you betty and betty when you call me you can callll meee allllll" -->"bum, bedaboomdop! don't stop til' you get enough!"
... Yeah, I have no idea what those MJ lyrics are. Does anybody, really?
As my sister would say, noyce.
The evening ended with a very nervous taxi ride. For those of you who grew up in the 'burbs, you know what I mean. Riding in a car with a stranger at 2am is bad enough--the fact that I had no idea where I was in terms of orientation to my apartment made me revert to referencing the hours of SVU I watched in my first week here. This guy could have driven me to Georgia and I wouldn't have known. I thought I was in the clear until he started asking me where he should turn. Eek. After a couple U-turns, we magically came about a street I recognized and was somehow able to navigate him. But dear lawd, nerves were a-jumping.
Happy Weekend!
I hear ya on the cab part! I hadn't taken an official cab ride here until a year after I'd lived in the city. Normally I just told them the intersecting corners and they were able to get me home.
ReplyDeleteOnce a cab driver even waited until I was safely in my building until he left 'cause it was like 3am or something... or he could have been checking his cell or my ass who knows ;-)
I have 2 pen pals, and we write real letters! It's awesome.
ReplyDelete