I (heart) D.C.

I think I’m a D.C.ophile. 


For one, I always talk about how great D.C. restaurants are, express wonder over the funky home furnishing in people’s windows, and I smile idiotically at mothers pushing their hip-hop 2-year olds in strollers.  I think I really annoy my friends from N.Y and California, who just shake their heads at me with a smile that says “poor girl, she doesn’t know what she’s missing”. 

But really.  I sometimes walk home from work, a 1.5-hour stroll, from the heart of the business district, to my ghetto neighborhood I call home.

I walk from the Capitol, through Gallery Place Chinatown, trying not to bump into the hoards of Capitol fans (hockey) in their identical red sweats and baseball caps.

I then snake around through Mt Vernon Square/Convention center, with all its chichi new modern condos. 

(there are modern condos and yet these store fronts are rotting and deteriorating in the snow and the tropical heat of D.C.)

I follow through in Shaw/Howard University and wave to the babies in their strollers, and the old men chewing sunflower seeds on their stoop.  I slow to a crawl to look over a prim lady’s yard with wind catchers and plastic flowers.

I get out of people’s way on the busy U street,

(View from the top of a hill overlooking U street - see the National Monument in the background)

(A dilapidating house sits right across from this one with blue accents around the windows)

(Examples of nicely refurbished Victorian homes)

And I stop at the yellow house with pale ivy across from the community center.

I’m home!



Sigh, (I heart) D.C.!