Another day, another pile of data, and I am completely incapable of staying focused. I’ve gotten next to nothing done today, and have basically given up in favor of writing this entry. Because my slacking-on-the-job segues nicely into writing all about DC
Sometimes I hate that this is my job. I hate telling people for the entirely shallow reason that I feel as if I should be doing something more with my life. It was always the plan that I was going to go to graduate school in Fall 2006, so when I stumbled upon my original job here, I was thrilled that I’d found something that would actually give me some credentials. I would’ve been happy to get any job, and was expecting to just get some disposable receptionist position or something anyway. And then I got promoted and it was awesome. And then their were layoffs and department eliminations and essentially a demotion.
That sucked a lot. But since I had rent to pay I was grateful to land in this position. There’s been “drama” at work that I’ve already written about a million times, but overall, there are far worse things.
But sometimes, the insecurity creeps in. When I was in DC, I felt like I should have been doing more with my life this year. Fan is in the Peace Corps and spent a year in Africa. Jamie was in the right place at the right time and has a great job that he loves at a Jewish not-for-profit that does all this great work. Blah, blah, blah, comparing myself to other people. This struck me when we went to pick up Michael’s stuff from a friend’s apartment. There were six or seven of us sitting around, talking about grad school and what we had done in the interim and I felt like everyone else had done something “real” and I’d just been a bum, or something.
So I voiced this to Michael, and his response, beyond being exactly what I needed to hear, was true. “Rachel, remember what you said your goal was when you moved to New York? That you wanted to be more social and more comfortable with people?”
“Oh yeah, I guess,” I said, already feeling better.
“You couldn’t have sat in that room like that a year ago”
And it hit me that he was right, and the rest of the weekend was one big example of how I achieved exactly what I set out to do.
I got to DC on time. Michael met me at the train station, along with Jamie (who I had met once, and liked. He deduced that I was from Bergen County strictly from the information that I was a Jew and a conservative) and Fan (who I met a few times freshman year.) She was a little cold to me all weekend, but it turned out okay based on the fact that I can stand up for myself, apparently, and that I took care of her when she got way too drunk.
Lunch was had (Tryst, in Adams-Morgan), we checked into our hotel, which was AMAZING. Jamie had found this great deal online, and all weekend we were like “Four Star Hotel on a not-for-profit salary, we rule)
We chilled in the room for a while, then went back out to get Michael’s stuff from his friends place. (That’s where aforementioned discussion occurred.)
Saturday night we went out to Georgetown, and met up with Dafna, another Hampshire person. Fan’s boyfriend also joined us, so I wasn’t the only “outsider.” We did lots of browsing/shopping and went to this Mexican place for dinner where we got to sit outside on an upstairs patio. We decided we’d all squeeze into Dafna’s car, so we walked there through streets lined with awesome old houses, telling ghost-story-ish things (the combination of the weather and the settling made it deliciously creepy), saw the Exorcist stairs, drove to a “haunted house” where we touched the door.
Sunday morning, Michael wasn’t feeling well so I went out with Jamie and Fan. I hung out with them all morning and did not feel out of place or self-conscious once. So I can do this sober! We walked past the White House, got hot dogs, went to the American Museum of Natural History, rode the Carousel and played in the fountains at the Smithsonian castle. Michael met up with us to wander across the mall, meander around the Capitol and get lunch. Speculations on the future were made, “how-I-lost-my-virginity” stories were shared, and “what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life” was discussed. I felt like I’d known these people for years. (Well, Michael I have known since we met on the third day at Hampshire and solved the problem of race over lunch.) Then we napped in our blissfully comfortable hotel room. BLISSFULLY.
Around 9:30 we went downstairs to the tiny little courtyard at our hotel and had champagne.
(Oh & sidenote, because this is where I stand up for myself: Before we went out, Fan and I switched purses, due to outfit matching, she said, in the bitchiest voice “not to be rude, but this was $40 and I got it in Paris, so I’m attached to it.” I paused for a second before saying, politely; “Well mine was $60 (lie!) and I got it in Florence, so be equally careful.” She was taken aback. Jamie and Mike were laughing and Jamie was like “I am so glad you sassed back.” So it’s a dumb, lame little thing, but if I hadn’t said anything I would have been annoyed about it all evening. And Jamie, by the way is awesome. He went out of his way to make sure I was included and having a good time, which I appreciated since he and Fan are extremely close.)
Anyway, so champagne. We all made toasts. Mine was “To not taking any shit from anybody.” None of us had eaten, so we were giddy as we proceeded to get sushi. After sushi, Mike went off with Dafna, Jamie, Fan and I checked out the gay scene at Dupont Circle. At the first place, drinks were only $2 and Fan I were the only women in the place, and we sang along to the music, and again, I was impressed with how relaxed I felt (no it wasn’t the liquor!)
Jamie was unimpressed with the eye candy, so we went downstairs and chatted with people at another bar. Fan (who is this cute, tiny Asian girl) was the center of attention. I stuck to chatting to a recently dumped guy about how men suck. You know the drill – broken hearts in a bar love company.
Jamie found a cute boy he liked, so we walked over to another club. My $10 cover charge gave me the privilege of pulling Fan through crowds of sweater, muscular gay men and getting her to the bathroom, because she was violently sick.
Jamie gave me cab money, and I took her back, where the front desk guy helped me walk her upstairs. I know she felt guilt, but I’ve been there done that, so it was fine. And it kind of broke the ice between us.
I spent all day Monday with just Michael, having a relaxing lunch, chilling and talking. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year, which is way too long. Though in some ways, it doesn’t feel like that long, because we stay in such close touch.
So it was in no way the most fun weekend ever or anything,. There were definitely moments during Fan’s L-O-N-G shopping excursions when I was bored out of my mind and my feet hurt and wine. But overall it was exactly the weekend that I needed, and I came home and just felt so good about everything.
And so that was two weeks ago, and that overall feeling of goodness has mostly prevailed. I don’t know. Michael says I sound different on the phone.
And things ARE good. At the beer garden a few weeks ago, CK and I had the type of conversation the two of us always have when we’re drunk. I was drifting towards melancholy a bit, because of everything with the boy drama, because I still have my moments of feeling hurt and sad over that. And he interrupted me and was just like “Fuck that. Rachel. You are going to U Chicago. You have a way out. None of this is going to matter.”
Affirmation from my friends is always amazing, from CK it’s practically priceless. We are very, very similar creatures, possibly more so than anyone I’ve ever met. We spend our time at work either discussing politics, or engaged in our repertoire in which we insult and deride each other. And then we get drunk together and all the walls come down, and seriously, he’s become one of my good friends. Where’d I meet him? At work. Where’d I meet Jill-IAN, who is like, my long lost twin who I :: heart :: to death? At work. Where’d I need Drew? At work (And Drew and I are ADORABLE together.) Where’d I meet the majority of my friends? At work.
When I moved to the city, I didn’t know anyone, really. I was still walking around seeing ghosts and still not over HeWhoShallNotBeNamed. I met all these awesome people through my job, and hanging out with them was always great, and it sounds clichéd, but I guess that’s what gave me the confidence to go out and meet people through other networks. I can’t say I’ve made close friends that way, but I’ve made a lot of acquaintances, and hung out with a lot of people, and now if I WANT to go out and do something, I can. And when I want to go home and watch Law & Order SVU, I can.
And so I may not have a glamorous job, and I may not make a lot of money. But when I go off to school, I’ll have survived a year in New York City, with stories to tell and friends to keep in touch with.
And I think that’s pretty damn good.
