D.C. Day 22

There wasn't a lot to report this week. The most exciting thing that happened is I saw a group of hipsters wearing striped socks, oxford shoes and Where's Waldo hats.  They were so stereotypical that I had to get a picture.  Unfortunately.. my flash was on.  I didn't get the shot because I averted my camera so quickly out of shock and embarrassment.  Next time I was on the metro and wanted to take a picture of something hilarious, I made certain that my flash was off.  That picture turned out:

I've never seen wooden high heels before, and they were so obnoxious, I had to take a photo. 

On Monday, I think, I was walking down a sidewalk.  I had to walk under some scaffolding because of construction going on.  As I was walking, I saw a tag sticking out from the wood and stopped to read it:

Great... that's reassuring.

So anyways, I got sick on Wednesday and spent Thursday and Friday sleeping, wallowing and watching chick flicks.  (How cliche)  I was very cold and went to extreme lengths to keep warm.  I woke up from an all-day nap and saw this in the mirror:

Yes.. I'm wearing my Russian mafia hat over my hood in an attempt to keep warm. :P

I felt much better today (Saturday, the 28), but I didn't particularly feel like going out.  I spent the morning cleaning my room and bathroom.  I also practiced the piano today.  Well it's only a keyboard, not a piano.  Yes, that's how desperate I have become to create music.. I'm reduced to playing a keyboard. 

Anyways, my friend Rachelle (who is also 6'0" and also comes from Tacoma, Washington area. She's awesome)  convinced me to go with her and her other friend to the Smithsonian museum of natural history.  That was cool.  On the way there, I saw a couple guys playing a terrific drum medley on some buckets.

As soon as I arrived at the museum, Rachelle and her sidekick announced their intentions to see an Imax about coral reefs.  Great, a movie about water, fish, diving... all things that I'm terrified of.. on a 12-story screen.  It wasn't so bad; it featured gorgeous scenes of colorful fish darting through cascades of floral.  But it was a familiar film about how humans are good-for-nothings who are ruining the earth and killing all the sea creatures. 

My bad. 

Besides that, we saw the Hope Diamond and a bunch of other beautiful diamonds and gems.  That must have been our favorite part.  Or at least mine. 

We also saw the fossil exhibit, which reinforced my believing in sea monsters and my non-believing in dinosaurs. 

After we all left the museum and said goodbye.  I took the metro to a stop about a mile from my house because I wanted to check out a gym I'm thinking of joining.  I walked home, but went further and traversed down to the waterfront.  I prefer walking to riding the metro, especially today.  The streets were empty in these outskirts of town where I live.  A few cars passed, and a few pedestrians carried groceries down the sidewalk, but I was mostly alone in the midst of the apartment buildings and oak trees.  The wind blew at my face, whipping my hair behind me.  But the air was thick and warm today, and the breeze felt divine. 

I thoroughly enjoy strolling pensively, losing myself in thought as I take in the sights and sounds of the city.  I enjoyed even more walking along the waterfront of the Potomac.  The water lapped at the boats in the dock, and I wandered down the sidewalk, delighting in the moisture lilting on the breeze.  The moist aroma reminded me of the waterfront back home, and warm memories flooded back of loved ones sauntering down the waterfront with me.  The sun was setting by this time, and the fuchsia-dandelion sky reflected on the rippled water along with the city lights across the river. 

I especially liked seeing house boats sitting in the water.  They looked so cozy with their shingled roofs and white decks overlooking the waves.  I spent an hour on the waterfront, soaking in the divinity.  Water.. I fear it, but I love it.  A large body of water is my favorite place to be besides a forest.  There is hardly an abundance of forests in DC, but the water is just as beautiful here as anywhere else.  While I luxuriated in the waterfront ambiance, I pondered.  I've been thinking about things a lot already, but this gave me some time to really examine myself. 

I've known who I am and what I want to do for a long time.  I still know who I am for sure, but I'm not so sure about what I want to do.  I still know that I must write; that's never been under question.  But I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be the political reporter I wanted to be.  I came here as a bright-eyed journalist dedicated to exposing the truth at all costs.  You know, my whole journalism is democracy speech.  But here I am, writing about FCC orders and what organizations think about pending legislation.  And my stories and news briefs are being read by some of the most important executives and government officials.  Yet how satisfied do I feel sitting in a cubicle 40 hours a week? 

DC was supposed to be my shining moment, the jump-start to this dream.  I'm still immensely enjoying the experience, but it has turned into a soul-searching marathon.  My thoughts keep going three ways.  1)  This weird and disturbing desire to settle down with a soul mate and have babies has surfaced out of no where and is suddenly stronger than my desire to be a journalist.  2) go do a bunch of young-person crap. And I want to live in Europe for a time period, most likely the U.K., but Germany would be a plus. 3)  I need to write books.  Hundreds of novel ideas pop in my head every day.  I want to write about everything. 

All these are conflicting ideas and somewhat new.  My desire to write books was replaced a couple years ago by my desire to serve the truth and justice of journalism.   Now, I want to let my mind expand onto paper and give life to these worlds I create everyday.  I feel like an artist with 3 miles of blank canvas.  I want to paint pictures with my words and never stop. 

But at the same time, I still feel excited by journalism, and the ability to present the news to the public.  I'm not sure what this all means, but I think it will eventually boil down to me becoming a freelance writer someday.   But honestly, when I think about making pancakes for mini-Katies in ten years or whenever it happens, all this stuff seems meaningless.  So for the first time in my life, I'm trying to focus more on now than on the future.  It's odd but freeing.  I don't know why I always stress about the future so much anyways.  My life has always followed the same pattern:  I try to live righteously, I tell Heavenly Father to lead me where Be wants me, He plops a scholarship, internship, opportunity, etc. into my lap and sends me off with very few obstacles.  I trust that it will always be this way if I keep trying to do what's right.  Hopefully.  So after all that thinking, I came back to Earth and found myself back in front of the twilight-lit river, walking home in the moonlight.