Cherry Blossom beginnings

This weekend marked the start of the Cherry Blossom Festival. Here are some pictures I took from yesterday's activities, which included flying kites



































Too bad it had rained the day before and was all gloomy, but luckily it wasn't too cold.


The peak of the blooming will probably happen between April 1-4, according to the National Parks Service

To bad I will be headed south, so hopefully it will bloom early. Most of the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom as well as some magnolia trees. Spring is definitely trying to shine through between the spring showers.

Thirty-three more days until I'm home. Hopefully they go by fast, I just want to be home doing my normal thing. I actually can't wait to start working, considering I don't have a job here (I don't count the fact that I help out during family dinner once a week and make like 14 bucks...that's not a job). So I hope to just crank through and then leave on Friday, April 1st at night, and fly home!

But for now, I'll take advantage of being here obviously, finish out my internship, get through these classes and come home!!!

My first and last Greyhound

If you plan on traveling using a Greyhound bus--put aside our entire itinerary and don't having anything special planned a good five hours before you arrive to our final destination. I arrived at the bus station at 3:30 p.m., an hour before my bus would leave and the exact time the website said to arrive, (an hour before your schedule bus departure time). So I stood in line for my bus, since seating is first come first serve. I kept looking at my watch, anxious and excited to know where I would be in what I thought would be six hours. 4:30 rolled around and the line hadn't budged. The door to the platform wasn't opened and no official was even explaining why we weren't driving down the road already. I began to become worried and frustrated. At first I thought I was in the line for the wrong bus, and then began to assume that my bus had already left, and then began to panic at the thought that I would have to wait God knows how many more hours for another bus to take me down to Raleigh, North Carolina--my chosen destination. Since there wasn't a Greyhound employee in even earshot for me to holler at to ask why in the world my current location wasn't on a bus and instead standing in line, considering by now it was 4:45, I began to listen to the people around me to see if I could gather any info from their frustrated panicking as well. To some relief, I was assured I was on the right bus from the fact that one lady was going to Charlotte, so we were going in the same general direction. I stood there not only confused and frustrated, but helpless. It's not like my complaining to the bus driver would actually make us go faster, but a little info update would be nice. The doors finally propped opened and we were admitted on and herded on the bus. I found my way down the aisle and sat in an empty window seat, a traveling requirement I've established whether I am taking a train or plane and now, bus. We left Washington, D.C. at 5:05 p.m.--35 minutes behind schedule.

"Good afternoon," the bus driver's voice thundered throughout the bus cabin. I unenthusiastic "good afternoon" came from the passengers (I could only imagine why).

"You guys are pitiful! Good afternoon!"

We then responded a little more joyful in our response,"Good afternoon!"

"This is my home and you will respect it as such. Now my name is Andrea."

She went to go on to explain some simple rules of the road to us, such as cell phone volume, personal electronic device volumes, disposing of trash along with some personal hygiene regulations.

"I speak one time and I'll cut it dry, keep your shoes on and break your wind to a minimum!"

Off we drove out of D.C. west over the Potomac and onto Richmand, our first stop and transfer for some passengers. The bus needed to be serviced when we arrived so we all had to exit the bus. I brought a magazine with me, my wallet, phone and iPod. After using the restroom, I found my way to a bench next to an older African American gentleman. I began to read my Running Times and listen to my music.

"Is that hiking?" the man next to me asked. I took out an ear bud and asked,"Padron me?

"

"Is that hiking?"

"No, he's running, it's a running magazine, I run, but I mean I hike too."

"Do you run to lose weight or keep up your endurance?"

"Well, I mean I ran all throughout middle and high school in sports, so I just do it, I like it."

I was a little shocked he asked about my personal motive for running, especially the weight loss one. I run primarily because I like being active and it keeps you in shape and healthy, but not for weight loss. We began to talk about where I run and I told him that I run from my apartment towards the Capitol and down the National Mall, past all the monuments and sometimes, across the Potomac.

"I live in D.C." I had heard myself tell him. I live in D.C.



I couldn't believe I said that. This really startled me as I began to continue a conversation with Ty, as he later introduced himself. Up until that point, I would say I live in California but just here for the semester. I wouldn't say I live in D.C. I mean, I know I technically do live in D.C. but it was an idea that I didn't want to acknowledge and define myself with. I was a Californian, I was from the West Coast, where the sun sets over the Pacific--I wasn't going to give myself credit for being an East Coaster. But I did. three months after adapting to city life, carrying flats to work while keep high heels in my desk, socializing and talking about the latest gossip in D.C. (mostly political) and dressing a little more business than casual, I was beginning to see the assimilation take place. Not only am I a Californian, but I'm also a Washingtonian.

We began to casually talk about our lives. He told me that he had lived throughout New Jersey, D.C. and was now headed back towards his current home, Atlanta to start a quilt making company. He had told me how he had, for a couple years, an organic deli, but had to close it because of rent increases.
Ty was soft spoken with a sweetness in his voice. Probably in his 40s, his skin was weathered and aged but gentle and friendly. His brown eyes, sparkled in the florescent lights from above. His thick, curly black beard was peppered with gray strands like neatly placed stitches in an embroidered piece of fabric.

We soon wrapped up our conversation as he had to get in line to board his bus, which turned out to be the same bus I was on. I had a reboarding pass, so I was able to board first. Luckily, for Ty striking up a conversation with me, I had forgot the fact that we arrived in Richmond at 7:35 pm, five minutes past the time printed on my ticket that we were suppose to be leaving for Raleigh. As new passengers made their way on the bus, we didn't leave the station until 9:06 p.m.--a good hour and half behind. I wasn't as pissed at this point, more so there was nothing I could do and me just getting upset would just make my stomach hurt and life miserable. So in went my iPod headphones and up went my feet on the seat next to me. I tried to dose off to sleep, but the fact that the seats weren't that comfy and my back was up against the cold, metal windowpane, I just sat there with my eyes closed, listening to the Garden State soundtrack on shuffle.

I arrived in Raleigh, North Carolina...FINALLY!! The lights inside the bus flipped on as we pulled into the station. My eyes burned and I squinted trying to find my friend Andrew outside. To much light, my contacts were dry and I could barely manage to look two feet in front of me. I stumbled off the bus, exhausted, yet overjoyed with the fact that I had made it, only two hours later than the expected time of 10:35 which was printed on my ticket. Though I had made it, Andrew and I still had another three hours to go to Charlotte. But at least it wasn't on a bus.

Short Recap

Read up on places to watch bball during March Madness in the D.C. area.

This week went to the Newseum, pretty amazing. Only spent about 5 hours there, but could have spent more. I was really captivated by seeing part of the Berlin wall in person, as well as the exhibit on 9/11, which was very emotional.

I think I've seen the sun first the first time in a while here. It is sunny, clear skies and high 50s low 60s!!!

Going to North Carolina this weekend too! :)

Back at it

See how close I was to Colin Powell

My visit home was great, I had some good times, enjoyed seeing the ocean everyday, eating carne asada burritos, and surfing.

But I did miss D.C.

Once you are here, it gets into your blood and you can't get it out of your system.

Also, I started Twittering....Tweet Tweet....look me up!

Home sweet home!

Just landed an hour ago. I'm sitting at home, just finished raiding the kitchen--I know I should go to bed since I'm three hours ahead...but I'm just so excited to be home!

How to party like a CPACer....by Shanley and Coco

Scene: "But I'm moderate!" I yell across the dance floor.

Too late.

Paul, the Republican from Ohio who has so recently offered me a dance and drink, is halfway across the room.

"We'll dance when you change your affiliation!" he yells over his shoulder.

Welcome to partying during CPAC week, where political affiliation is a dividing line on the dance floor.

Disclaimer: In our observations of the events below, we, in no way manipulated, fabricated or fallaciously added to the text of what we witnessed and participated in. This is, by no means, a reproduction of Stephen Glass’ work. With that said, we shall report to you on the story of partying with Young Republicans in Washington.

Thought: Should we pretend to be conservatives all night and see how it goes?

Whispered conversation: Should we have code names? Where should we say we’re from?

Interruption: Tall conservative asking me why I’m not dancing.

Location: Hawk and Dove, Pennsylvania Ave., Eastern Market.

Scene: Business suits everywhere—clean cut and freshly shaven.


Tip #1: When partying with conservatives, understand that the appropriate clubbing attire looks a lot like a casting call for “The Office.”

Moment: With a mouth full of Fish and tartar sauce, I survey the outfits around me. Take a drink of coke. The woman at the bar wearing a high collared shirt and small sandal heels. The men in ties to my left. The boy in a polo and khakis handing the bouncer, dressed in a black t-shirt and distressed jeans, his I.D. The woman in pearls and an argyle sweater smiling on a bar stool to my right. I giggle, and lean to tell Coco to catch a glimpse of someone behind her.

Tip #2: When partying with Conservatives – don’t hit the dance floor right away. Instead? Stand stagnant on the dance floor, and make political conversation over drinks.

Thought: Why are they not dancing?

Moment: Walk over and post up along the wall on the dance floor. Observe a small group of people trying to dance…they can’t really stay in rhythm with the song. Make eye contact with Shanley with raised eye-brows. Something out of the corner catches my eye. Two guys—crew cuts, t-shirt and baggy jeans, typical military look—are staring at us. They are making hand gestures towards us and begin to walk over. I look toward Shanley. Taller guy asks if we want to dance. I look at Shanley. Have fun! Shanley looks at me with impartial look. Guy directs her to dance floor. I watch them, make sure I don’t have to intervene. Five minutes later. S.O.S. sign on Shanley’s face.

Tip #4: Honkey-tonk music can take a dead room and turn it into an instant party.

Thought: These people started moving so fast there must be a safety hazard – and the fire alarm sounds a lot like “Get out the way of Cotton-Eyed-Joe…”

Moment: Sipping on my coke and giggling with Coco, I look out over the quiet awkward people, and moved my head to the beat. Before I know it, Cotton Eyed Joe has started – there’s screaming, yelling, everyone gets into line and starts dancing like crazy: people running into each other, laughter. Mayhem. The awkward silence is over. The party has begun. An hour later the cupid shuffle comes on to keep the party going strong…and everyone breaks out of their bump and grind routines to begin the two-step. Tip #4: Forget stilettos and your favorite eye-liner, you don’t need to be beauty pageant material to win a partner, you just have to love Sarah Palin, or, perhaps, look like a hockey mom.

Thought

Conversation: Paul (OH-R): “You guys here for CPAC?”
Shanley and Coco: Yes, of course!
Paul (OH-R): Bull S**t
Shanley and Coco: Well, actually, we live here. We’re interns on the hill.
Paul (OH-R): Bull S**t. I don’t believe your names. You have false names. Let me see some ID. Shanley and Coco: *Shrug*, pull out IDs

Thought: I can’t believe I’m showing Paul (OH-R) my I.D. to prove my name. Paul (OH-R): Okay, fine. So you guys are here for CPAC.
Shanley and Coco (business lie – different than a normal lie): Now we are!

Moment: Feeling emboldened (and a little bored) I tell Paul I’m not a Republican. “WHAT?” Paul takes his hands off me like a baby off a hot stove. Paul abruptly walks away from me.

Thought: He’s joking.

Second thought: He’s definitely serious.
Third thought: This is ridiculous



visit Shanley's blog to follow links we added to this

Less than 48

And Yes I am wearing a skirt with Uggs, got to keep the Californian living still alive here on the East Coast.


Snow today....70 San Diego weather tomorrow!! I get in around 11 PM-- CANT WAIT!!

I had a crazy week last week...

Almost freaked out that I am here ...still!! Felt very gloomy and expressed my longing for the sun and the sand...

Went to the Kennedy Center on Thursday to see a performance by the National Symphony Orchestra...um amazing!! Sat in the center of the seventh row from the stage (mind you these tickets I received for free!)

Then CPAC was in town (AKA young Republican youth) and went out and interacted with then at night at a local bar/dance club. That was very interested, I never knew you could be more attractive to a guy if you were a member of the Republican party than being cute....whatever it takes I guess...I'll stick to not attracting people by my political affiliation. (should have dressed like Sarah Palin...next time dress more like a maverick...)