Listening: the last bits of "Who's Line is it Anyway?"

Reading (perhaps quality): started a book mom leant me about Berkeley High, called "Class Dismissed", I think.

Reading (definitely pulp): finished "Needful Things" by Stephen King but it's still in my backpack and I haven't put anything else in yet so I reread parts on the metro.

Drinking: semi-flat diet pepsi.

August 20, 2002
10:56 pm

The cross town commute is a pain, but there are some advantages to working near the Marine Barracks. This morning on my way to work I saw the most beautiful man on his morning run - dark skin slick with sweat, amazing muscle definition, moving swiftly and smoothly in the early morning cool. Hot damn. Wouldn't have wanted to actually be near him (sweat is nicer at a distance) but it was a pleasant early morning sight.

Have been away from the computer for a bit. Mom was visiting last weekend, then last night I meant to write after I just laid down for a minute. Yeah - a minute that began at 7 pm and ended at 1:30 am. Got up then for an hour and a half - read, watched some tv, vegged out, had some dinner, then went back to sleep until my usual 6:30. Wouldn't want to keep it as my normal sleep schedule or anything, but as a one off it worked just fine.

About Mom's visit - had a great time. She, Keith and bug visited me here at my last apartment before I left for grad school, but this was the first time it was just her and me on my turf. We walked and walked - I warned her to bring comfortable shoes and she said she hadn't worn sneakers so much in a long long time.

Thursday we had dinner at Lauriol Plaza (my favorite DC restaurant), then headed home to hang.

Friday she did museums all day (I was in meetings), we walked around and had dinner in Georgetown, then walked to Clarendon to join a engagement fete-in-progress for Leigh and Porter (D and Fergus, Foster and Fabian, Demmert and her mom were there as well). Was great to introduce Mom to the gang she hadn't met, and nice for her to see D (since we went to High School together she
knows my mom well).

Saturday we did museums together.

• Had tickets to Jackie Kennedy in the morning (amazing amazing exhibit. Well set out, the clothes were fantastic and it was great to go with my mom who's a great seamstress and can actually appreciate the workmanship)
  
  
• Tickets to Egypt in the afternoon (great stuff too but the crowds were driving me insane. my. god. People were pushy and swarming and completely unaware of the space that their bodies took up. It was like the metro times 1000. People having extended conversations directly in front of plaques when there's open space, people stepping and standing directly in front of you. The worst though? People actually touching the exhibits. Yeah, that's right. Friggin touching the exhibits. Are these people raised in barns? Or incredibly wealthy? I'm still puzzled by what combination of cluelessness or arrogance one would think one could/should touch something at a museum. But the exhibit itself was amazing. Am thinking of going back on a non-Saturday sometime in September)
  
  
• Chicano Visions at the Arts and Industries Building (mom had gone on Thursday and showed me the catalog. Amazing stuff - the colors, energy of the works rocked. But again annoying tourists abounded. In this case the exhibit was empty, but there was a small family (mom, two boys, grandma) where one of the boys kept touching the paintings. I don't mean a fingertip or leaning close, he put his full palm on one of the paintings. My mom and I looked on in horror and said please don't touch the paintings. The grandma gave us a dirty look and said something to the mom and about how that had already been said and it didn't need to be reiterated. About two seconds later the boy touched another painting, in front of the mom who grabbed his hand and told him to stop it then looked at the grandma. I was distressed at god knows what damage this kid was doing the artwork but at least happy that I could stew in what crappy disciplinarians these adults were. The family turned the corner my mom and I saw a guard and told him there was a family with a couple of kids who kept touching the paintings, that the adults seemed to have it under control but we thought they should know. My mom and I are a couple of tattlers, I know. And I applaud people bringing their kids to see cool art. But walking past the first painting I could see the kids handprint on it. And that's just not right.

Sunday was a trip to Eastern Market. She loved the furniture and crafts there and the two of us spent time poring over jewelry. Then we about died from the heat and decided to go to Pentagon City to get away. Hung out for a bit there, then followed the air conditioning and went to Courthouse and saw "Goldmember". Dinner from El Pollo Rico capped another good day.

Monday she left. We left the house at the same time - she to go hang at Union Station and me to go to work.

Now am watching a documentary on Jack the Ripper where they're talking about women with "abandoned character". As if those women picked prostitution up and placed their prospects for another life down. The photos and drawings of the period make it all look so long ago, though I know that people then really couldn't have been so different.

Doing (life and related tasks): meetings all day tomorrow, making plans for the weekend, starting training for the 5K.

Doing (crafty stuff): Mom and I finished the sweater back, am continuing on the front.

Wanting: things to get sorted out at work, the course at the corcoran to come through, some time to catch up on cleaning up the apartment.

Anticipating: not sure what but sure it's something.