DC, like, a month late
13 April 2009 at 12:58 pm

I didnít hate DC, and I wasnít expecting to. Itís a good city, a safe city, too politically charged for me, but a nice place to revisit.

The only thing striking about the city is how walkable it is. I didnít realize until I walked for hours and hours, jogged for miles and miles, until I could hardly stand anymore, until my feet were so sore I winced with each step. It was amazing, but not entirely compelling.

I was in such a place that it wonít make any sense to anyone but me. I was almost completely solitary for three days straight, speaking only to extreme strangers (servers, an aesthetician, a bartender, a hotel employee) and wandering and walking, just me and my iPod, and sometimes not even that. Deliberate, complete, anonymous solitude in a big, busy city: itís an ideal for me, but I donít expect anyone else to understand.

Somebody stopped me while I was jogging back from the zoo, where I saw a bear struggling to move himself from one branch to another, the tall, thin tree swaying back and forth with his effort, and I swear I could read his thoughts: ďThis is not going to end well for anyone.Ē Other things I learned at the zoo: red pandas win at cute, and I had no idea I might enjoy a 15 minute staring contest with a jellyfish.

I had passed him on the bridge and smiled at him for getting out of my way before I was compelled to walk into a camera shop to inquire about a tripod. He had caught up to me by the time I came out, and told me he liked my hair, asked if I was from around here, and took his leave when I said I lived in California and did not see myself moving anytime soon.

Nothing to bolster self-esteem like an attempted pick-up after three hours of running.

ďItís your cute butt,Ē Joanna says when I tell her.

My grandpa told me I had been running in the same neighborhood Chandra Levy was kidnapped in, which: terrible things happen everywhere, every day, and thereís nothing anyone can do about them. I was fine. I still am.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.