While you were at Sunday brunch.
Will: What's Tumblr?
Me: It's a microblogging platform.
Will: Is it like Flickr?
Me: Eh.
Will: What's cooler: microblogging, or microbrewing?
After last weekend I know more about this man, Eric Clapton, than I ever cared to know. I know that in the early 1970s he had a $16,000-a-week heroin habit and was reclusive, fat, zitty, asexual and constipated. In the 1980s he replaced heroin with alcohol and drank up to two bottles of booze a day. How he managed to survive is mystifying. The above photo is from a blog called Psychadelic Hippie Fashions.
During the slow hours at work on Saturday and Sunday, I read Clapton’s entire autobiography, left behind by a coworker. (That coworker has severe ADD and has been “reading” this book since August. He brings it to work with him every weekend.)
On Saturday I held down the fort in the kiosk for most of the day. I wish there had been a real fort in the kiosk. With blankets and pillows and blissful sleep. I was exhausted from Friday night. I took one group out at 5pm and the Mall was strangely desolate. Like my soul.
On Sunday it rained all morning, and not a single person signed up for a tour or even called to inquire about a tour. The boss let us leave early, around 2:30, and by then I had finished Eric Clapon’s autobiography, along with two crossword puzzles, two rounds of Hangman, and a bowl of delicious chili, and was running out of ways to entertain myself.
Eric Clapton should stick to writing songs and avoid writing any more books, although I very much enjoyed his Britishisms, such as “the odd quencher.” Context: rather than “He enjoyed the occasional alcoholic beverage,” Clapton wrote “He enjoyed the odd quencher.” Brilliant!
The Marine Corps Marathon was yesterday, an absolutely gorgeous day for running a marathon, or doing whatever else you happened to be doing outside. It was chilly, but the sky was blueblueblue and the fall leaves were at their peak. The colors around the Mall, and especially around the Capitol grounds, where there are (did you know?) over 900 trees, took my breath away.
Mid-morning we got to the Capitol just as hundreds of runners were doing their lap around the reflecting pool and the Marine Corps Band was playing the Rocky theme song. Totally pumped, is how I’d guess those runners felt.
Hey ladies,
This guy took my tour on Saturday.
Actually, it was just James Franco’s identical twin. With a British accent. Double swoon.
It had been a busy but blah morning - humid, windy, cloudy, a little rain, and a group that wasn’t very chatty - and then two British guys arrived late for the 2:30 tour. They seemed like partners? But I couldn’t tell. They were adorable and friendly, regardless. Since a larger 2:30 group was already going out, I took the stragglers out on my own. They loved this idea. As he filled out the paperwork, one of them, Matthew, said cheerfully to the other, “We’re due a little good karma.” So cryptic! After I trained them, I asked the other Brit’s name…
“It’s Kim.”
“Kim?”
“Yeah.”
“Kim, really?”
“Yeah, I have a woman’s name.”
“Your name’s really Kim?”
“Like Kim Basinger but less voluptuous.”
“HA! … Wait, you’re serious?”
“Yes! I don’t see why you’re so surprised!”
Well, I was surprised because I kind of pride myself on “getting” the characteristically dry wit of the Brits, so I was sure this guy was having me on.
It happened again when we got to the middle of the Mall and Matthew asked, “What that dome over there?” Thinking he meant THE CAPITOL, I laughed out loud.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” he said. “What’s that dome over there.” (more pointing)
“Ohhh, the National Gallery of Art. I thought you meant—”
“Not THE CAPITOL!”
We’d made it a few blocks and then it started pouring. We donned ponchos and I gave them the option of turning back and resheduling the tour, but they said nah, we’re already soaked so let’s keep going.
It. was. pouring.
We did the whole two-hour tour, soaked to the bone, but they loved it, which made me love it. We went through enormous puddles, and Matthew kept giggling like a little girl. There was a lot of giggling in general.
Things took a turn for the MUCH LESS FUN when my Segway died at the White House and the two Brits had to tag along to my coworker’s tour while I waited at the White House for my coworker to bring me a replacement Segway. All my joy fell away as I waited for half an hour in the cold rain, my stupid dead Segway attracting lots of stupid attention. Stupid.
Forecast
Tomorrow there’s an 80% chance of rain. Rain all day. Plus, I can tell you right now that I’ll probably be tired and hungover.
TGIF!
Update: I was not hungover, just tired.
Do not be deceived by the blaze of light in the corner of this photo. There was no sun last weekend. Just 45 degrees that felt like 35, and a whole lotta rain. For hours and hours and hours. Thumbs down.
The (only) high point was taking out an old Mexican man and his grown daughter on Sunday, when it was just cold, but not raining. The man had never ridden a Segway before and was so thankful to me for helping him overcome his fear. He kept saying, “It’s such a nice thing for you to do.” At every stop, the two of them took turns standing next to me in their photos. We hugged at the end of the tour. Adorable.
It’s now Monday and I’m sick with a head cold, feeling crummy. But I’m wearing new shoes, the sun is back out, the sky is BLUE, and it’s back to looking like what fall is supposed to look like.
OH! My coworker also introduced me to some hot jams by Kid Cudi and Miley Cyrus last weekend. So that makes more than one high point.
That's a good thing...right?
Anil Dash, a well-known tech blogger, calls Google Wave “a Segway for e-mail.”
Read more about this baffling new invention - Google Wave - here.
Red Run Red Run
Forgot to add the awesomest highlight of my weekend! Seeing friends doing the Red Dress Run through Capitol Hill. Don’t know what I’m talking about? The Red Dress Run was kinda like this except that in those pictures it looks like everyone’s standing around or walking briskly at best, which is lame considering they’re in a RUNNING club jeez, but last Saturday they were running full speed ahead, swarming past my Segway tour in front of the Library of Congress.
And then I got called out by one of the hashers who happened to be my friend Therese! Right there! Running past us! Hahahaha! Oh, um…
It was one of those totally funny bizarro DC moments (I say that like there are *so many* of those moments here in DC, where life is so craaazy!) that was really hard to explain to a group of tourists behind me on Segways, but that I felt obliged to try to explain anyway because hey, that bald man over there is wearing a red dress and sneakers and just mooned us, what’s THAT about?
My explanation went like this:
Me, as I headed up one side of the Capitol with my group and noticed a flash of red on the opposite side of the Capitol: “There’s something going on over there. Some kinda commotion.” And I sort of waved my finger in that direction and narrowed my eyes because I’m a detective and also an 80-year-old woman.
My group: “Oh…yeah…something going on.”
Me, as I saw the runners in full effect on Capitol Hill, and it dawned on me: “OHHH these are HASHERRRRS!”
My group: “…”
Me: “Hashers are like a running club, except it’s a drinking and running club. They run, and they drink. And someone stakes out a trail for the others to follow. With chalk on the sidewalks. And the runners have code names.”
My group: “…oh…”
Me: “THERE GOES MY FRIEND! I KNOW HER!”
My group: “…oh…ha ha.”
End scene.
Thanks for the shout-out, Therese! I loved it.
