Overdone, Done better somewhere else

But I just wanted to catalog my life here.

Yesterday Andrew and I (some big sleep afficianados) got up at 5 a.m., put on 3 pairs of socks (4 for him), 3 pairs of pants, 4 layers of shirts and sweaters, hats, scarves and gloves and set out on a 17 block walk to the national mall.

Needless to say, there were hassles and headaches on the way. I have never seen so many people in such good spirits.

We sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, watching the sun rise over the Capitol and huddling together for warmth. We weren't much for the bustle of the mall and had a pretty okay view of Washington's magesty, chilling like G's with Abe.

It was an amazing moment for America. I'm glad I got to share it with a million or so other people but mostly glad I got to share it with Andrew.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say election night was still more electrifying for D.C. But yesterday didn't belong just to the district, it belonged to everyone.

Secret Canadian Celebrities Really Upset Me

I hate it when I find out some celebrity who has been celebritying for a long time is Canadian.

Tonight: Tommy Chong, Christopher Plummer and Brendan Fraser

Jerks.

Leggings are not pants.

Stop pretending they are.

Stuff I Like

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/full-list-of-stuff-white-people-like/

http://www.stuffjournalistslike.com/

They are funny because they are true.

Musings DeJour

I never felt quite as poor as I did yesterday when I noticed the hole in my tennis shoe on the way to mail my food stamp application to D.C. Health and Human Services.

Someone very clearly just faxed a printed out e-mail to a friend here. Why on earth would you fax a printed e-mail instead of simply forwarding it?

2009: Time to get this bedazzled, tulle-covered monkey off my back

I can't believe I'm back to the grind already. I had such an amazing time in Minnesota, despite completely flaking on many, many people who I hope can find it in their infinite compassion to forgive a weary traveler...

Whether real or imagined one feeling persisted while I was "home": I'm engaged. I have been for some time now, but nobody here in D.C. seems to care. Not so in Cold Spring. Turns out, loved ones want to love the idea of a wedding. Also, it would seem that being uncomfortable with the bowling moniker "Mrs. Cruze," is a bad idea.

So I ran myself through an emotional wringer. I'm really comfortable (in fact, I'm excited to spend the rest of my life hanking it) with the notion of being married. Less so with the notion of a wedding. I guess I've never enjoyed the limelight and it seems like an entire day dedicated to paying attention to me.

Moreover it is a day full of what I (ignorantly or not) see as often-arcane and wasteful traditions. I'm not just talking about the tens of thousands of dollars spent on one day (2005 survey says somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000) but I'm also talking about the paper, flowers, dresses and tuxedos made from god only knows what chemicals. I'm not a greenie, I'm just sensible. Why should it take another person to help me get dressed (and use the bathroom) on my wedding day? That doesn't make a lick of sense.

So I'd like to take this opportunity to declare my independence from the evil, taffeta-clad, body-glittered, tacky-ribbon tied to every available surface wedding industrial complex.

I will keep the traditions I can find meaning in -- my father (hopefully with a few more pounds on his frame) walking me down the aisle, some music, some vows, the people who matter most nearby -- and dispense of the rest. I will avoid things that I am not comfortable with or can't understand, things that make the single, or non-religious, or anti-Macarena types in my life uncomfortable.

I will not get hung up on invitations, lighting or fingernail polish. I will not bemoan having to invite relatives I don't like. I will not mind if I don't get a KitchenAid mixer.

I will use the event as a chance to spend time with the people I care about most. I will give up control of details, ask for help and go with the flow. As long as Andrew is there, I will be fine.

I will make it a day to celebrate what matters: my best friend, my love for him, the people who helped us get to where we are and the people who will be with us as we grow together.

I'm not ultra new-agey but I know words have power. I would like to thank the Internet for letting me write that down and get it off my brain.

I can hang with Ira Glass

I'm pretty sure history will show that I am the voice of this generation of this decade. That said, I think my message will most effectively be communicated through the genuis of that show where "hipster know-it-alls talk about how fascinating real life is," This American Life.

I've been mulling over some great topics for essays and I figure if I put them in the ether, I'm somehow committed to one day writing them:

Windblown weave clumps and dunk: How a white girl from Minnesota fared in northeast D.C.
Everything I need to know about life, I learned from the WWF
An unwitting crusader: My life as an all-season bicyclist in Alaska.