Boat House

I learned today that people live in house boats on the docks of the Potomac River. Yes. I saw them—tonight, in fact. We were walking along the dock noticing the incredible amounts of flotsam (noun: floating wreckage of a ship or its cargo; broadly : floating debris [we'll use the broader sense here]) on the surface of the water as a result of hurricane Sandy. And then we saw them: houseboat people. They look just like normal people, but they live on the water. There they were, near their houses. And their abodes looked just like houses. Logistically speaking, I could buy a boat and rent a spot on the dock. I bet it's so much cheaper than any rental in the DC area. In fact, I am going to research it.

But before I buy my house boat and live on the dock in order to save millions, I should probably take classes on house boat care. Wouldn't want my house to sink in the middle of the night . . .

Now That's a Question

"Ginette, Aruba or Jamaica in February?"

I like the way these neurological pathways fire. There was no presage (noun: : something that foreshadows or portends a future event), absolutely no clue. And off to Jamaica we go—plans made. Tickets bought.

GMU in January?

A completed goals statement and  nearly completed graduate school application are the result of my day off work. Satisfying. And with another day off tomorrow, I have a resolute (adj.: marked by firm determination : resolved) goal to complete it.

A Montgomery County Cancel

"Chantal, my boss is calling. This must be a big deal. Give me one minute, k?"

"Meghan, how are you? This must be important or I wouldn't be getting a call from you on a Sunday."

"A day off? Yes! Since when does Montgomery County ever cancel?"

That makes for one blissed-out (adj.: experiencing bliss : ecstatic) Polinger employee.

The Obscure DC Cornerstones

There are four of them, and we found the northern most one on Saturday. Occulted (trans. verb: to shut off from view or exposure) by a guardrail from most people's view. Fabulous find.

Important Cause

The Halloween dance on Friday. I was an activist picketer, advocating the important cause of reuniting Pangaea (Geographical Name: hypothetical land area believed to have once connected nearly all of the earth's landmasses together.)

The Steps—Halloween Appropriate

This is practically impossible today. It might have been Jordan giving me flirting advice. Or maybe it was the unexpected discovery of new sand volleyball courts, as well as eight great games played. My interviews with George Mason and Georgetown were great too. Oh! And I ran the Exorcist steps at Georgetown! That has been on my list forever (and I did run it in my nice clothes . . . ). I'll even add a picture for you. I met a couple nice guys, and I always appreciate meeting nice people. Walking around Georgetown was fun to do during the day too. And I stopped in Le Quotidien. Too much! Today was just delightful.

Okay, it's Jordan's advice and perspective on the wily (adj.: full of wiles : crafty) ways of women.

Late Night

An hour and fifty one minutes. I had no idea it had been that long. And that's one of the best parts about a good conversation with a friend—the realization after you hang up that you talked as long as you did. That's connection, and that's the type of confabulation (noun: to talk informally) I like.

Chi

I've logically learned that stress in life is an opportunity. I can't say that as a blue and white personality I feel that way, but at least I think that way; that's a step.

I felt a type of stress today that I don't think I've ever felt before, and if I have, it's been brief and fleeting. Thank goodness for Wifi, YouTube, an iPhone, and earbuds. I had the slightest idea to find some musical medicine. I searched for Les Mis. "Bring Him Home" and listened to it on repeat for a little while. Laughter may be the best medicine, but music takes second place—at least it did today. It soothed my soul and centered my chi [noun: vital energy that is held to animate the body internally and is of central importance in some Eastern systems of medical treatment (as acupuncture) and of exercise or self-defense (as tai chi)]. Not every day is perfect, but it's beautiful that there are remedies so easily available through technology.

Sleeping under Sunbeams

As a child, I often would find a spot of sun-warmed carpet in the living room and drift into a nap, rolling with the sunny square as it moved across the floor. Reminiscent of prior years, after Brigham and Mark came over, I fell into a somnolent (adj.: inclined to or heavy with sleep : drowsy) state on the sofa under the warm afternoon sun.

Nerding Out

Today I loved a conflation (noun: blend, fusion) of things: I found my long lost twenty-page comma style guide (these coveted twenty pages are back from the dead); I used my dusty contraband style guide; and I whipped out my sixteenth edition of The Chicago Manual of Style. I loved it all. Let's face it—so nerdy. Should I be embarrassed? Yes. Am I embarrassed? No.

Ante-up

It came back to me today that one of my favorite qualities in a person is ante-up. It's a rare gem. The first time you discover someone has it, you know it's the start of something fantastic. Ante-up happens when you say something borderline ridiculous, usually on purpose, and you consciously or subconsciously see if the other person can catch that ball and throw it back—preferably faster.

When done right, it's not competitive. It's a pleasurable sharpening of each other's mental game. In the moment of play, two things happen: first, vulnerability. Can he catch the ball? Otherwise interpreted as, will he know you are being facetious (adj.: meant to be humorous or funny : not serious), and will he find it humorous too? Second, discovery. Can she return serve? In other words, can she not only not blink an eye at the ridiculous thing you just said, but can she say something even more ridiculous in response?

Successful Ante-up:

[Phone Call]

Me (monotonically transitioning): And I read something in the newspaper that will change your life. They have an American Idol-esque show in Senegal about sheep called "Khar Bii," translation "this sheep." They are searching for the most perfect bovid.

A-Bass (without hesitation): I've been thinking about entering. In fact, I plan to go on a trip where I get kidnapped by Bedouins. From there, I'll learn how to raise sheep, and if anyone knows how to raise sheep, it's those Bedouins. Smuggling one to Senegal might pose the biggest problem . . .

Ten out of ten. This was thrown faster and was curved sharper. Clever not only because it was creative on its own merits, but because it referenced a past conversation that also referenced a past conversation—retroactive dominoes. It made me laugh—gutturally.

The Burn

Fifteen flights of stairs consisting of ten steps each. My quadriceps started burning at floor 8, half way. I climbed the stairs at a steady clip (Int. verb.: to travel or pass rapidly) after I heard there was a fragile, little old lady trying to come down the side stairwell. (Not okay!) I was the only managerial staff onsite today, and I didn't realize how much I would love taking charge of serving the residents. Definitely the peak of the day!

The Daily Diamond

Slovakian, Turkmenian, Russian, Panamanian, Venezuelan, Indian, Salvadoran, Serbian, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Somalian, Laotian, Argentinian, Nigerian, Ethiopian, Emirati, English, Nepalese, Vietnamese,  Japanese, Chinese, Maltese, Guyanese, French, Filipino, and the list goes on. These are, for the most part, the foreign nationals I've interacted with the past few months—at work. Their jobs are varied, their experience extensive. It is incredible to talk with them about their lives. I might not love everything about my job, but I do love the multifarious (adj.: having or occurring in great variety) interactions I have with these people.

While I was covering the front desk today, watching people come in and out of the building, my mind wandered to these experiences, and I compiled this list. It reminded me that I experience the unusual and incredible every day.

Standing Corrected, Gratefully

One of my co-workers is particularly talented in handling people. Her aptitude for defusing potentially paroxysmal (adj.: sudden violent emotion or action : outburst) predicaments is astounding. I, on the other hand, find myself flopping around like a swordfish on firewood when the shadow of conflict presents itself.

She saw me struggling to resolve a volatile situation today. What was not obvious to me was very obvious to her, and while she watched me work, I knew she knew I didn't know what I as doing. Poorly handled on my part. So she took over, and not in a pedantic way. It was very gentle—of which I am grateful; I, like most people, have an ego. Then I got to see a master weave her artwork. No doubt I felt sheepish, but that's not a bad price to pay to learn at the feet of one of the best.

William Blake

I read a poem today by William Blake, The Fly, after listening to a new artist put it to music—in an Appalachia kind of way. It was a fun rendering. There is something simple and cathartic [adj.: of, relating to, or producing catharsis (noun: a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension)] in it. Here is the poem for you:

  

The Fly 

Little fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death,

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die. 

But as I'm sitting here thinking about what honestly made me the happiest today, it wasn't that, although that was a simple pleasure. I didn't want to share what actually made me happiest for vulnerability reasons, but here it is: I think I have a shot at the Georgetown English program. I actually think I could get in—a thing I never had supposed. Wish me luck.

So Domestic

Sunday. What did I make on this table? The kale chips. The green crunchy things in the white bowl. Toss the kale pieces in olive oil and salt them. Bake on a cookie sheet for twenty minutes, and voila! Everyone at the dinner loved them—at least seven people. Domestic success! I only see positives from here.

Why do I love kale? It's so good for you! On the Whole Foods aggregate nutrient density index (ANDI), it's 1000 out of 1000. Impressive little verdure (noun: the greenness of growing vegetation; also : such vegetation itself).   

50 Percent Off

For Friday:

I walked past my local running store today and saw signs of sale. In need of new shorts, and being the parsimonious (adj.: exhibiting or marked by parsimony; especially : frugal to the point of stinginess) person that I am, I turned in. I searched for treasures on the racks of relative reward, and, indeed, I found yoga shorts for 50 percent off. Unexpected success!

Conjugal Bliss

Dancing with a sassy, circa sixty-year-old Addis Ababaian (made that one up) at a connubial (adj.: of or relating to the married state) celebration. You cannot help but feel a lighthearted joy while dancing with this cute, little Ethiopian woman. She was laughing merrily while we moved to the popular, upbeat music. And I've decided that out of all the cultures I know, Ethiopians have the best laugh—sincere, hearty, happy, and infectious.

What came in second place? Being grabbed by the hand by my entertaining, gay co-worker to bust another move on the floor. No threat, pure fun, easy to let loose. LOVED it!

Finally coming to a conclusion after she pledging her troth a year ago, my boss is married. What a day!

Heavily Recruit-ed

Thursday's little piece of happiness:

Andrea: "Ginette, we have an opening in our house. You should move to Boston. How many reasons would it take?"

Ginette: "One hundred and one. And I would need them to come in multiple media formats: Facebook, text, e-mail, carrier pigeon, flare, Morse code on sky strobe light . . . "

Andrea: "Okay, I'm on it: 1) my Bam It salad dressing . . ."

She is ever perspicacious (adj.: of acute mental vision or discernment).

_______________________________________________

E-mail in my inbox at 11:47 a.m.:

101 reasons why you should move in with us (don't judge me on starting this sentence with a number)

1. My Bam It salad seasoning
2. Cheap rent
3. Being close to your fam, causing cockle workouts
4. YouTube video parties
5. Brittany hunts
6. Brittany makes applesauce
7. Brittany, Dara, and Steph are awesome long-distance runners. I cheer well. :)
8. You'd get to ride in my sweet Toyota (150,000 and still kickin'!)
9. Boston's schools are slightly above average
10. Dara is the nicest person in the world
11. Stephanie has hot pants and a sweet movie collection
12. We would support you in wearing a sleeping bag around town for 4 months—you wouldn't even know it's winter
13. We live next to a river and near a lake that I swam in a month ago and am still alive
14. We're becoming friends with our neighbors who own a canoe and would let us borrow . . .
15. Dara cooks great veggies, Steph bakes, and Brittany grills. I cheer. It's delicious.

______________________________________________

Text my phone at 5:35 p.m.:

So much to look forward to.

Calm

This is for Wednesday: I've spent some time talking to a friend recently who lost her mom three months ago. I don't like juxtaposing (transitive verb: : to place side by side) my happiness against a friend's pain to realize my good fortune. I think a proactive awareness of happiness is better than a passive comparison that leads to the same. But I couldn't help noticing how I came to this realization. I've had a taste of her hurt--a small one. The pain is constant and deep at first. Then it turns into rolling waves [emotional cramps :)]. Then it dissipates.

I thought to myself, "My soul is at peace right now, and I love my life. My heart and mind are calm. I am so, so grateful." It's amazing how happy (or relieved--I can't pinpoint it) that made me.

Gargoyles

Oh, yes. My favorite thing about today was learning there is a Darth Vader gargoyle on the National Cathedral. Such an aberrant (adj.: deviating from the usual or natural type : atypical) gargoyle. Bring binocs if you want to actually see it, though. It's tough to see with the naked eye.

Turducken . . .

Happy turducken day! Yes, it was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I came home to a fire ablaze in the fireplace, a turkey on the stove top, and four girls actively preparing a feast. I came home to a holiday I knew we were going to have and yet somehow didn't expect. With seventeen people around a very long table, we toasted our nonalcoholic drinks and drank in the holiday. Megan's ardent (adj.: characterized by warmth of feeling typically expressed in eager zealous support or activity) love of Canada—her homeland—in full display. A lovely evening not capable of being topped by anything else.

A Fireplace and Apricot Juice—Just an Excuse

Conference can never be beat. So let's go with second best. Three great conversations since we're so loquacious (adj.: full of excessive talk : wordy): fireplace chat last night with Katlyn and Rach over cheese, crackers, and apricot juice; toenail painting party with Tara and Cam in the morning; and basement chat with Julia before going to bed. There's nothing like a good conversation.

The Stocks

The stocks. During the early days of America, if a man kissed his wife on Sunday and he was caught, he served time in the stocks. Reverse jail body for him, undoubtedly. I am certainly not guilty of that crime since I am not a man and I don't live in the early days of America, but it was fun to imagine what stocks would have been like back in the day.

The ride. It is unequivocal (adj.: leaving no doubt : clear, unambiguous) that squirrels have an agenda. Whether they are on Capitol hill, in your backyard, or in the middle of rural Virginia, they have plans. As we were cruising under a beautiful canopy of trees that covered the Prince William Forest Park road, Russell observed that we were being ambushed by acorn-pelting squirrels from the trees above. Thankfully, we made it out safely without casualties.

A Bedouin wife. In Jerusalem, Andrea told me I would make a fantastic Bedouin wife. I think it's true. But how to make this happen . . . Amazingly enough, I learned from Andrea today, who learned from NPR, who learned from a girl who signed up for a vacation where she was kidnapped by Bedouins, that I, too, can sign up to be kidnapped by Bedouins. My next vacation is a Bedouin vacation—for sure.

But what made me the happiest today? Conference. Oh, yes.

Warmth of a Fire

There is very little in my life that can beat sitting next to a warm fire and having eclectic (adj.: composed of elements drawn from various sources) conversation. That's what I loved about today, along with meeting new people, connecting on deeper levels, and enjoying the night sky.

H Street

Dinner, dessert, and a great conversation on H street, with this lovely view on the side. A seriocomic (adj.: : having a mixture of the serious and the comic) night.

"I Object."

There is one incredible story that made me laugh today. On first dates, my friend asks the following: "what's the worst thing you've ever done and not felt bad about it?" As I mulled over this question internally, I couldn't think of how I would respond if I were so uncomfortably subjected to this question. (I'm sure there's something, but no need to dig too deeply here.) Of course I turned the question on him, and lo and behold (interjection: used to express wonder or surprise), what an unexpected treasure!

A wedding objection: he stood up in the church, raised his arm showing he had something to say (since they skipped right over the part where they ask if there were any objections), and said, "Excuse me. I object." It wasn't because he was in love with the girl. (Too bad, right?) No, indeed. It was practical. Here was this twenty-four year old girl marrying a fifty plus year old man. Not for money, not for looks, and not for a good match. (This is what my friend says.) He just wanted to be sure she was sure at the very last moment. Everyone had tried to talk her out of it.

So he prepared. He watched all the romcoms he could find, bought a bangin' new suit (a man needs to look good at a major life experience like this), and prepped for the day. He quoted us his speech—with the caveat that it could have been much better executed (after hearing it, I'd have to agree). He gave four very practical reasons why they shouldn't wed and was then asked to sit down. He said it wasn't a pleasant experience. I can imagine . . .

Moral of the story: be careful who you invite to your wedding.

Over a Bowl of Breakfast

Not even selling my scuba gear today compares to laughing with Andrea. While I was sitting down getting ready to eat my highly desired breakfast—one that I crave daily—Andrea called me to chit the chat. We went deep, resurfaced, swam a couple lengths of the verbal pool, and laughed. Why is everything she says so funny? I think it's because her comedic reputation adds weight to her hilarity (noun: boisterous merriment or laughter).

[My ever coveted breakfast. (There is in fact granola under there.) The only thing it lacked was peanut butter . . .]

Mists

There's way too much to love about today: the elderly Maltese couple I chatted with about moving back to their homeland, the super cute Chinese couple that just moved to the US, the missionaries that walked by my front door. This is turning into a tough exercise.

My bike ride was amazing. It was a misty morning, and dew was evaporating from the grass and canal. The air was cold but refreshing, and I was able to think as I rode. As I past Fletcher's Cove, I heard what always sounds like a waterfall, and I saw hovering mists shifting in a small breeze. Initially, the mists reminded me of a Sherlock Holmes short story, The Hound of the Baskervilles. The fog on the moors were so well described in the story (or my imagination was so vibrant as a child) that my mind went straight to the painted picture the book left on my mind. It was beautiful.