Penultimate

It's our second-to-last week here in DC. I can hardly believe how quickly the summer has flown by! We're trying to squeeze in every last bit of living that we can out of this place because--to be honest--we don't ever see ourselves as coming back. (More on that later.) I'm so glad that we've had the summer here though because gosh there is so much to see and do.

Monday 7/25: Brock and I participated in the Barlow Center Talent Show! It was such a fun night. We did a parody of Alanis Morissette's "Ironic." Brock and I lovingly refer to the BC as the friend zone because there's a whooooole lotta flirtin' that goes down here, but not a lotta datin'! So we wrote a song called "Platonic." Brock guitared it up while I channeled my inner angsty Alanis with mad vocals. And together, we came up with some pretty baller lyrics.

An old man turns twenty-eight
He plays the Xbox as his Friday night date
In the friend zone, and he can’t escape
The dinner group gives him stomach aches
And isn’t it platonic . . . don’tcha think?

It’s a bridesmaaaaaaaaaid on a wedding day
It’s a grandpaaaaaaaaaa who asks if you’re gay
It’s the bad adviiiiiiice from your roommates
And who would’ve thought . . . you’re single!!

Mr. Play-It-Safe was afraid to date
Sat in the commons room looking for a soulmate
He waited his whole dang life for a Cougarette
And as the years passed by
He thought “I love Jimmer Fredette”
And isn’t it platonic . . . don’tcha think?

It’s a bridesmaaaaaaaaaaid on a wedding day
It’s a grandpaaaaaaaaaa who asks if you’re gay
It’s the bad adviiiiice from your roommates
And who would’ve thought . . . you’re single!!

The Barlow Center makes people friends not lovers and certainly not eternal companions
The Barlow Center has lingering hugs but never never any kisses, bachelors and misses

So go and do what the Sowbys command

Quit flirting, quit talking, quit holding hands
It’s like 10,000 friends when all you need is a wife
How will you ever replenish? How will you multiply?
And isn’t it platonic . . . don’tcha think?
A little too platonic . . . and yeah, I really do think

It’s a bridesmaaaaaaaaaaaaid on a wedding day
It’s a grandpaaaaaaaaaa who asks if you’re gay
It’s the bad adviiiiiiiiiice from your roommates
And who would’ve thought . . . you’re single . . . . .

The Barlow has a funny way of sneaking up on you
The Barlow has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Of helping you out . . . of the friend zone.

Tuesday 7/26: I lunched with my old BYU cross-country/track friend Laura! She's just as saucy, opinionated, and brilliant as I remembered :) As if I should expect anything less from a person in their third year of Harvard Law School!

At dusk, Brock and I went on a therapeutic run on the Glover-Archbold trail. A little while ago I wrote about this wooded trail we'd found in the middle of DC--as it turns out, the Glover-Archbold trail is just a continuation of that! It's a perfect little 5-mile run from the top of the trail to our apartment, and it winds down through thick forests and streams.

I turned my iPod to Radical Face's "Welcome Home" and stretched my arms out wide as I ran down a hill. I breathed in the fresh air deeply and closed my eyes. We had the trail to ourselves for most of the run, with the exception of a few white-tailed deer and the occasional glitter of a firefly.

Wednesday 7/27: I lunched with Brock :) He bought us some awesome gyros at a local Greek place, and maaaaan oh man were they good. After work, we hit up the International Spy Museum. It was pretty cool, but definitely geared toward kids. Luckily it was community night (aka FREE)--wouldn't have been worth $20 admission!

Thursday 7/28: We made a quick visit to the National Air and Space Museum after work. It's a HUGE museum, and rightfully so--how else are you going to fit DOZENS of aircraft in a single building?! We saw the Apollo 11 Command Module Columbia, the Spirit of St. Louis (Lindberg's plane for the first transatlantic flight!), Amelia Earhart's Lockheed 5B Vega (plane of thesecond transatlantic flight, and first by a woman), UAVs used in Iraq and Afghanistan, WWI and WWII planes--the list goes on!

Saturday 7/30: Visited the infamous Ford's Theatre in the morning (see photos 150-168 here). I couldn't believe how many original artifacts they had in the small museum there--the suit Lincoln wore the night he was assassinated, the bloodied pillow his head lied on, the wooden stick that John Wilkes Booth used to jam the door . . .

It was so humbling to look up at the president's box in the theatre. To look at the stage and see the place where John Wilkes Booth yelled out "Sic semper tyrannis!" before making his getaway on horseback. The entire experience gave me an even greater appreciation for our 16th president. I would really like to name one of our sons after him. "Abraham Boyce." Hmmm.

After Ford's Theatre we went to the Corcoran Art Museum (see photos 79-89 here), which had an eclectic collection of American, European, and modern art. It was a fun, quick museum to go to with lots of gems littered about the galleries. Here's one of my favorites:

"Tamaca Palms" by Frederic Edwin Church. 1854.

Next on our list was the Air and Space Museum (yes, I know, again) to see the "space" portion of it (on our last visited we'd only seen the "air"). We also paid to see an IMAX movie called "Hubble 3D" which just blew our minds. I can't believe how small our little planet is in this vast cosmos! To hear nebulas being measured in trillions of miles across, with billions of galaxies in them--holy cow. I've always had a fascination with space, and I think it's because it ties in so well to my faith in God. It's hard to look at pictures like these and be an atheist.

We grabbed a quick dinner at Busboys and Poets and headed off to meet Ryan and Tiffany for s'mores and games in Rock Creek Park. Unfortunately, their car broke down right as we were about to drive off! The night ended up being a bust, but c'est la vie. If you're going to be stuck on a street corner for the better part of an hour, it's good to be stuck with friends :)

Martha Stewart Reject

"My casserole turned out soooo bad last night!"

"I can't even sew on a button!"

"I completely shrunk all my shirts in the wash yesterday!"

Has anybody else noticed the trend amongst married women bloggers to make fun of their homemaking skills? I get that we all make mistakes sometimes (and a lot of time those mistakes are freaking funny), but the more and more I see this on blogs, the more and more it bothers me.

Don't get me wrong: I'm totally guilty of this. Nobody loves a good dose of self-deprecation as much as I do. But I've tried to tone it down because I dislike the subliminal messages that this "Martha Stewart Reject" attitude (heretofore referred to as MSR) potentially conveys.

I would classify these messages into three categories:

1) I'm too modern to be good at homemaking. What, is homemaking something that only our grandmothers were good at? Is being old fashioned out of style? Is it a sign of backwards narrow-mindedness to enjoy cooking, baking, cleaning, sewing, gardening, knitting, and DIY projects? Am I asking too many rhetorical questions?

2) A strong woman shouldn't be a homemaker. Homemakers are among the strongest women--so if you're trying to prove that you are one, the MSR attitude does little to help your cause.

3) I'm too smart to be a homemaker. Sure, any woman can learn to cook and clean--whether you're a Nobel Prize-winning chemist or a Somali woman who's never set food inside a school. But intelligence does not preclude you from homemaking, and it isn't a sign of wasted intelligence if that's what you choose to do.

I'm probably over-analyzing all this, but I think it's important to recognize the undercurrents that swirl beneath our words. Undercurrents, after all, are what have the power to move people.

If you're an excellent homemaker, say so! Be proud of it. The blogs I read of women who cook passionately, or sew beautifully, or decorate exquisitely are some of my absolute favorite blogs--and I'd like to see more of them.

I hope you realize that I'm not advocating for cookie-cutter mommy blogs of women whose kids/house/marriage seems perfect (heaven knows the blogosphere already has WAY too many of those). If that's what's coming across, then (to quote G.O.B.) I've made a huge mistake. And please know that I love reading about mishaps and misadventures in everyday life, so I don't mean to rail against those either. I just want to make sure that women, as they're living imperfectly, realize that those imperfections aren't what they should be proud of or what they should broadcast the loudest.

It's okay to be a kickass homemaker. That's all.

Two Weeks in July

Wow, I'm exhausted just looking at this post now. Maybe Brock has a point when he complains about how we're always go-go-going . . .

Sunday 7/10: Visited the Pentagon Memorial (very sobering--I too often forget about the Pentagon attack on 9/11) and then headed over to Kramerbooks in Dupont Circle. Sometimes it's funner to lust after books than to actually purchase them. We wanted to sit down and read a little, but you weren't allowed into the cafe unless you'd already bought the books. THIS IS WHY PEOPLE GO TO CHAIN BOOKSTORES. Kramerbooks? More like Lamerbooks. See pictures 1-9 here.

Tuesday 7/12: Went to Arlington at dusk to watch the Marine Corps band perform. The best part was when the non-band Marines came out and did amazing tricks with their guns (twirling, throwing, and other synchronized badass stuff just like in the commercials). See pictures 10-22 here.

Thursday 7/14: Grabbed some homecooked wings at J Bells up near U Street and ate them on a grassy hill overlooking a Little League game! America, much? We also met up with some of my friends from work to watch the 50th Annual Congressional Baseball Game at Nationals Stadium. Dems had a young pitcher who'd played ball in college, so they smoked us 8-2! See pictures 25-29 here.

Friday 7/15: Had an epic TMNT party with the Barlow Center peeps. Complete with ninja turtle masks, mutagen, and homemade pizza (TMNT's favorite food . . . duh).

Saturday 7/16: Headed out into the boonies of DC to visit the National Arboretum, which was well worth it! It was so nice to be away from the city smells and bustle. We went back into town for brunch at a quiet place called Cedar, and then walked around the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden. After a couple more hours spent at the National Gallery of Art, we were le tired! See pictures 30-41 here and pictures 1-72 here.

Sunday 7/17: Went on a glorious morning run to Old Town Alexandria, where we ate at Gatsby's Tavern--a place that fed George and Martha Washington on numerous occasions! The Barlow Center missionary couple (The Sowbys) invited us over for a delicious dinner with some of the other young couples in the ward, and we had dessert with our friends Ryan and Tiffany in Silver Spring (it was Ryan's birthday!). We had some good conversation, good food, a little bit of Wii, and a few intense rounds of knock poker. Can't beat it! See this album.

Monday 7/18: Biked over to Arlington to eat at the famous Ray's Hell Burger for dinner (President Obama once dined here with Vladimir Putin). The meat was sooooo insanely good, but the burger was beyond huge! We definitely could've split one. See pictures 43-45 here.

Tuesday 7/19: Made a quick trip up to Washington National Cathedral after church. This place could easily compete with any cathedral in old Europe! Utterly gorgeous. See pictures 46-75 here.

Wednesday 7/20: Headed up to north Massachusetts Avenue for a showing of "Some like it Hot" on a big lawn! I'd forgotten how funny that movie was. Also: If Marilyn Monroe doesn't make you feel like an inferior woman, you must be a man.

Thursday 7/21: Went to the Maine Avenue fish market with Ryan and Tiffany. (See pictures 77-89 here.) Came home and played a fun dice game called Zilch. Tiffany impressed us with her luckiness. Ryan impressed us with his nerdiness. "No! I'm not risk-averse, I'm risk-neutral. You see, if the expected value of this roll is . . . "

Friday 7/22: I visited the American Art Museum in the morning and absolutely loved it! (See pictures 73-78 here.) Can't wait to go back. One of my favorite exhibits was a special exhibition of George Ault--I'd never heard of him before, but I fell in love with his paintings. Friday was also the day that I chopped off all my hair (FREEDOM!). In the evening, Brock and I headed up to Ben's Chili Bowl on U Street for some half-smokes. U Street is a historic corridor of DC--Duke Ellington, Langston Hughes, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, and scores of other prominent African-Americans used to come here for good food, good jazz, and good company. See pictures here 122-144 here.

Saturday 7/23: Spent all day at Mt. Vernon! See pictures 90-121 here. We had bought a couple Groupon tickets a few weeks prior for a fun little mini-cruise on down there--$24 including admission (which is normally $15!). Not too shabby, eh? Mt. Vernon was absolutely gorgeous and made me want to retire on an old Southern plantation. Complete with the slaves, because that is literally the ONLY way that place operated the way it did: In Mt. Vernon's heyday, they were farming on over 3200 acres of land with only 100 slaves. Can you imagine being in charge of 32 acres BY YOURSELF?!?!

Mt. Vernon definitely gave me an appreciation for the backbreaking work slaves had to do. Even something as simple as doing laundry was dangerous and physically exhausting. They had to haul up gallons and gallons of water, heat it up over a fire, mix everything in a large vat of lye and animal fat (can you imagine the number that would do on your hands?), and then dry and iron it. Try doing this on a hot summer day with endless loads of laundry for not only the Washingtons, but for all their guests, all the other slaves, etc. Unreal.

The thing the struck me most about Mt. Vernon, however, was how prudent and responsible George Washington was with his property. He truly tried to live off the land as much as possible, and always stored things away in preparation for leaner times. He saved money wherever he could and was beyond organized with his inventory and finances. Mt. Vernon was an extremely complex estate to run, but he made it seem easy. Take a virtual tour of Mt. Vernon here and look at all the things he had to juggle!

Some of the highlights of Mt. Vernon included seeing George and Martha's graves, seeing the bed that George Washington passed away in, and the key of the Bastille displayed in the house--a gift to George Washington from his friend Marquis de Lafayette of France.

The biggest NON-highlight of Mt. Vernon was how hot it was--115 degrees on the heat index! We came home dehydrated and exhausted.

Sunday 7/24: Went to the National Archives in the morning before church and saw the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights! It was unbelievable. All the writing was very faded so it was hard to read, but whenever my eyes fell across familiar phrases, chills ran up and down my spine.

"We mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor...
"We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union..."
"The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America."

There was just something about seeing these words in writing--next to the signatures of George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin, everyone--that made everything real to me. Looking at the words! Those words which were once ideas but are now reality. A feeling of reverence completely washed over me as my eyes scanned those texts. However imperfect or inefficient the political system may be today, it's working. I can't believe it.

Things got even better on Sunday when I had a great Sunday School lesson with the 8-11-year old girls I teach! I've been struggling with teaching them this entire summer because a couple of them are--ahem--rambunctious. But I was finally able to corral their attention, focus, and respect (maybe the new, shorter hair helped too? They told me I looked older). I taught a lesson about the ten virgins from the New Testament, and filled a complete hour with thoughtful discussion and questions. Let me tell ya, making one parable from the New Testament take up an entire hour with pre-pubescent girls is no easy task!

She'll Want Some Vacuuming To Go With It

I came home from work and opened the door to a very tidy apartment. "Brock! Thank you for cleaning up! It looks so nice in here!"

"Oh, no problem honey."

I sit on the floor, lacing up my shoes to go for a run. I notice the carpet is dirty. "I see you vacuumed, too."

Brock shakes his head forlornly. "If you give a mouse a cookie . . . "

Making The Cut

You don't get to do this:

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this

without getting hair that starts looking JUST A WEE BIT THRASHED.

I was more than ready to make a drastic change to my hair because I was tired of it being so damaged. Summer is the perfect time to go in for a chop--I was definitely loving my hair today as I walked around Mt. Vernon for three hours in 110-degree heat!

If you're hankering for a major change like I was, I have a few bits of advice:

1. Make your appointment at least a week in advance. Even though I was 90% sure I wanted to cut my hair super short, it was still good for me to have this waiting period. By the time I got in there, I was 100% positive that this was what I wanted. When the stylist start snipping TONS of hair off my face, I wasn't sad, scared, or nervous at all. Feeling all my hair come off was like tickly freedom raining down my shoulders!

2. Obviously this goes without saying, but find a stylist you trust. Not only did mine give me the perfect cut, he helped me hone in on what that even meant. Originally, I wanted Halle Berry's soft, spiky cut. But my stylist told me the reason why her hair stays in that distinctive spike is because it's so damaged! (She gets it relaxed.) Damaged hair opens up the cuticle, which make it more straw-like and rigid. The cuticles of healthy hair lie flat, and so the hair is sleeker and doesn't hold volume as well. I knew by the end of this process I'd only have healthy hair left, so I'd run into this problem. Chris thumbed through my magazine and pictures and suggested a photo of Kiera Knightley's new short hair. He said that when basing a new haircut off a celebrity's, it's important to choose celebrities whose bone structure and hair texture is very similar to yours.

3. Realize what short hair will mean for your beauty routine. In order to rock short hair, you have to do short hair. The time commitment on hair alone is actually minimal--this morning it took me all of ten minutes to go from dripping wet out of the shower to completely dried and styled. (To be fair, that's about ten minutes longer than I spent doing my long hair!)

But keep in mind that short hair puts the spotlight on your face, so you have to spend a little extra time on your makeup, too. Immediately after my cut, I went to Walgreens and spent about $40 on new makeup. Remember when I said my makeup routine only took five minutes? Yeah, not anymore. With so much attention on my face, I have to be much more meticulous. Again, this only adds an extra ten minutes to my beauty routine, so it's not much--but definitely something to consider. I don't think you can do short hair sans makeup. It already looks boyish enough. On that note, you may want to stock up on dangly earrings! 

4. Product will be your best friend. The only thing I splurged on was a really good pomade, but aside from that, I've stuck to drugstore brands (and they work great!). Here's what I'm using:

• Pureology TextureTwist Pomade - $24 
• Garnier Fructis Super Stiff Gel - $3 
• John Frieda Frizz-Ease Secret Weapon Finishing Creme - $7 
• Dove Extra Hold Hairspray - $4

Seems like a lot of product to use on a daily basis, eh? But if you use just teeny amounts of everything, you can achieve hold and texture without goopiness.

What I love most about my cut so far is how versatile it is. With just a quick swipe of the hand, I can have a totally different look in seconds. Have fun!

A Boy Who Reads

Brock, I know it frustrates you that I don't read what you read. That I prefer to spend my hours poring over the New York Times rather than Hugo, Nabokov, Hemingway, Tolstoy. I want to tell you something. Ready? Listen carefully: I'm listening.

I'm listening to the sound of your voice as you desperately try give each word the inflection you think it deserves. I'm listening to how you hang on and let go of syllables as you try to capture the nuance of every sentence. I'm listening for the pause that comes after you finish reading aloud, with the invariable "Isn't that beautiful?" that follows. I see your heart sink as you look up mid-passage and realize that I'm not focusing on the words.

Were you just listening to anything that I just read?
Yes! I mean, kind of.
What did it mean to you?
Um . . .
You weren't listening.

But I was. (Not to the words, although I can tell by the way the vowels and consonants dance on your tongue that they're lovely.) Pretty words have been strung together in pretty ways for ages. The cluster of scribbles you just read from War and Peace has stirred souls and moistened eyes long before we came to be. The beauty to me is not in the words themselves, but in the way the words move you. That's what I'm listening to.

Gettysburg & Harpers Ferry

That instead of blogging about our trip to Gettysburg and Harpers Ferry two weeks ago, I'm just going to post a link to my Facebook album of it. There's some winner pictures in there, let me tell ya.

But I guess it's not so lazy when you think about it. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, there's 67 pictures in this album, so that's nearly 70,000 words for ya'll. That's the size of a small novel.

Whew. I'm tired from all this novel-writing. I think it's time for a cupcake.

Sweet Nothings

Brock: "Did you read my comment on your Facebook post?"

"No, I'm kind of done being political for the day."

"I feel like being political . . . if your body is the Constitution."

James Madison would be proud. (I think.)

Beginning of the End

Last week I made a Word doc titled "Brock's Worst Nightmare." It's a day-by-day calendar from now until August 6th filled with everything we still need to do in D.C.

You see, Brock--in classic California style--doesn't care much for plans. He likes to let things roll, I like to gogogo till the point of exhaustion.  I feel like we've ascribed to Brock's ideology for most of our time in D.C.--lazy nights watching "30 Rock," "Human Planet, and reading books. About a week and a half ago, I was flipping through my beloved D.C. guidebook, and realized we had done nothing. Well, okay. That's an exaggeration. BUT WE HADN'T DONE A LOT OF STUFF. So here we go. 

***

We began last Wednesday night with an whirlwind evening that included visits to Constitution Gardens, the Willard Hotel, and the Decatur House.

^^And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

^^ Presidential business for Abraham Lincoln was conducted in front of this fireplace after Alan Pinkerton, a detective, heard of assassination plans on Lincoln's inauguration day.

On Thursday night, we stopped by the Old Post Office--a beautiful building with an old bell tower that offers an amazing (and free!) panoramic view of the city.

On Friday while Brock was at work, I went the Museum of American History for the third time. Brock likes to call me Kristi "Leave No Stone Unturned" Boyce, because whenever I visit a museum, I like to make sure I see everything. Some of the highlights of this go 'round...

• Julia Child's kitchen! She was a HUGE collector of knives, pots, pans, and every kitchen gadget imaginable.
• The desk on which Thomas Jefferson wrote The Declaration of Independence.
• The top hat President Lincoln was wearing the night he was assassinated at Ford's Theatre.
• Dorothy's ruby-red slippers!
• The Fonz's leather jacket
• Archie Bunker's chair
• Jackie O's, Nancy Reagan's, and Michelle Obama's inauguration dresses. Sooooo pretty.

Cool Hand Barack

CHIP REID (chief White House correspondent for CBS News):

Thank you, Mr. President. You said that everybody in the room is willing to do what they have to do, wants to get something done by August 2nd. But isn’t the problem the people who aren’t in the room, and in particular Republican presidential candidates and Republican Tea Partiers on the Hill, and the American public? The latest CBS News poll showed that only 24 percent of Americans said you should raise the debt limit to avoid an economic catastrophe. There are still 69 percent who oppose raising the debt limit. So isn’t the problem that you and others have failed to convince the American people that we have a crisis here, and how are you going to change that?

THE PRESIDENT:

Well, let me distinguish between professional politicians and the public at large. The public is not paying close attention to the ins and outs of how a Treasury option goes. They shouldn’t. They're worrying about their family; they're worrying about their jobs; they're worrying about their neighborhood. They've got a lot of other things on their plate. We're paid to worry about it. 

I think, depending on how you phrase the question, if you said to the American people, is it a good idea for the United States not to pay its bills and potentially create another recession that could throw millions of more people out of work, I feel pretty confident I can get a majority on my side on that one. 

***

Excellent points, Mr. President. But you never answered the question.

What we got here is failure to communicate. Jay Carney is great and everything, but sorry--your average American doesn't know who he is, let alone listens to him. Rarely do you hear Jay Carney's sound bites in the mainstream news. You know whose sound bites they play? Yours. Why aren't you coming out and explaining directly to the American people what the debt ceiling is? You could even have a little chalkboard like Glenn Beck. It'd be cute.

I know you're not the Educator in Chief, but this is serious stuff. The American public needs to be informed on it and--if the CBS poll is any sort of a reliable indicator--that's obviously not happening. I think you could stand to take a page out of FDR's playbook and start some fireside chats of your own.

Don't be afraid to interrupt our "Modern Family" reruns. Give a twenty-minute primetime speech and lay everything out there. Then, if we're still ignorant, it's own own damn fault. I love the idea of you giving answers instead of taking questions. The American public needs them right now. Not just for the information--they need to feel connected to you. They want you to talk to them--not to journalists.

Anyway, I'm no James Carville. This is just an idea. It pains me to see you have to slog through this muck of ignorance when you have the power to clear it away. Only 24% of Americans want the debt limit raised? Is this a joke?? Sadly, it's not. So let's start talking.

Waves

When Brock and I were dating, we used to go on walks at night while listening to music on his iPod. One earbud for him, one for me. The cold winter air rattled the tree branches as puffs of our breath twisted and twirled in the wind. Brock was scared to tell me he loved me. We had only been dating for a few weeks and were so young. So he would play songs on his iPod with lyrics like the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum, with the words "I love you" rolling off my tongue--a subtle and innocuous way of hinting at his feelings.

It's been almost five years since then. And last night, lying in bed, we listened to music together again as we fell asleep. One earbud for him, one for me. The song "There's Your Trouble" by the Dixie Chicks came on and threw me home to my backyard in Fort Collins, ten years ago. I distinctly remember being thirteen and whiling away summer evenings sitting in the sky chair under our deck, watching colors melt over the prairie. I placed the purple stereo I'd gotten for Christmas on the concrete patio and listened to the Dixie Chicks until it got dark outside. It was daydreaming time.

Who is the boy who'll love me? What's he doing right now? What will our first kiss be like? Will he give good hugs? I bet he'll give good hugs. And he'll tell me I'm beautiful all the time and be hopelessly, stupidly in love with me. And he'll squeeze my hand and kiss my forehead and tuck wisps of my hair behind my ear just like they do in the movies. And he'll smell good, too.

I'd walk around my backyard and imagine holding his hand. I'd lie on the cool grass, watching ships of clouds sail through the sky, and imagine him lying next to me. I was lost in the waves of a Colorado summer--of the wispy cirrus above, of the prairie grass undulating in the wind--and the only anchor I had to reality was the sound of the Dixie Chicks coming from that little purple stereo.

The boy I was dreaming of was lost in waves, too. Except he didn't watch them in the sky or on the prairie. His summer evenings were spent on a surfboard, waiting for one last swell to come in before the ocean swallowed daylight. Sometimes swells would come, sometimes not, but it didn't matter. A surfboard isn't just for surfing.

Years later, this boy told me how he once found a ladybug crawling on him as he waxed up his surfboard. (I love that he noticed that little ladybug.) He tried to shoo it away, but after paddling into the ocean, he realized it hadn't budged. It had found something good and wasn't moving.

Our summer nights of daydreaming apart turned into winter nights together, and now here we find ourselves in summer again. Dreaming again. Maybe in ten years I'll be thinking or doing something, and whatever it is will trigger a memory of last night, when I realized that those waves had become a memory, and those dreams reality.

That Intern Life

Hello.

I HEARD THE CONGRESSMAN IS SUPPORTING MITT ROMNEY.

Yes, ma'am.

IS HE STUPID?!?

No, ma'am.

WELL ALL US TEA PARTIERS ARE REALLY MAD.

Mmm hmmm.

YEAH MITT ROMNEY HE'S JUST ANOTHER RINO A JOHN MCCAIN A GEORGE BUSH. HE'S FOR UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE JUST LIKE OBAMA AND HE WANTS STRICTER GUN CONTROL AND THINKS GLOBAL WARMING IS REAL AND HE SAID UNIONS ARE GOOD.

Public- or private-sector unions?

I DON'T KNOW.

Well haven't unions been good in the past? Maybe that's what he was talking about.

NO THEY'VE NEVER BEEN GOOD!!!

Okay.

THE CONGRESSMAN NEEDS TO SUPPORT SOMEBODY WHO STANDS FOR PRINCIPLES. I THOUGHT HE WAS DIFFERENT, BUT HE'S TURNING INTO JUST ANOTHER CORRUPT WASHINGTON POLITICIAN.

Who would you have him support?

THE CONSTITUTION!!!!

The Constitution isn't running for president.

RON PAUL!!!!

Ron Paul won't win.

YES HE WILL.

No, he won't. The congressman's main objective is to see a different person in the White House in 2012. By the look of things now, Mitt Romney has the best chance of winning a general election.

OBAMA HAS NO CHANCE OF WINNING!!!

He has billions of dollars in funding.

THAT DOESN'T MATTER.

Yes, it does.

US TEA PARTIERS ARE GOING TO VOTE HIM OUT!!!!

You're a very small group.

NO, WE'RE NOT!!!

Okay.

WELL, I DON'T SUPPORT THE CONGRESSMAN ANYMORE BECAUSE HE LIKES ROMNEY.

Have you looked as his record? It's extremely conservative. Is this one difference of opinion really enough for you to want to sever ties with him completely?

ABSOLUTELY!!! HE NEEDS TO SUPPORT THE CONSTITUTION LIKE OUR FOUNDING FATHERS AND RONALD REAGAN!!!!

Okay, ma'am. I'll be sure that pass that on. Thanks for calling in.

***

And . . . scene.

A Weekend with Mom

Mom came into town on Wednesday and we had the BEST time with her!

Tuesday: Random story: There was a fire drill in the Longworth Building. Fire drills usually take at least an hour out of your day, because security has to sweep every room and then everyone comes back through security to get into work. To kill time, my co-workers and I went to the Library of Congress and used our congressional IDs to get into the rare book room. And guess what we thumbed through? A first edition copy of the Book of Mormon signed by Martin Harris--once given as a gift to someone by Joseph Smith! It was amazing just to touch its pages. And even though I knew all the words would be the same, it was neat to see an original document and be like "Hey! That's exactly what I read in my scriptures!"

Wednesday: Mom flew in after I finished working. I had a lecture to go to for Washington Seminar, so she and Brock went into Georgetown and grabbed frozen yogurt for a mom/son-in-law date :) Then we gave her the grand tour of our 300 square-foot apartment. She was blown away, I tell you. Blown away.

Thursday: Mom went to a morning lecture at the Brookings Institution about human trafficking in Southeast Asia. After work we went to the Kennedy Center, where there are free concerts every night at 6PM. That night the concert was Colombian folk music--it wasn't really our bag, so we all got tickets to a play that night called "Shear Madness."

We laughed out butts off. The show was whoddunit murder mystery with improv and audience participation. I kind of got really into it. "Carried away", maybe? At one point, the detective was questioning a suspect on his whereabouts during the murder:

Suspect: "I was in the bathroom."

Detective: "Really, now?"

Suspect: "Yes. Do you want me to re-enact everything I did in there, too?"

Me: (double fist-pump) "YEAH!!!!!"

Four seconds of crickets . . . then audience bursts into laughter.

Suspect: "You are one sick woman!"

Friday: I started the morning off giving a Capitol tour to not only my mom, but to my aunt, uncle, and cousins (who were in town for my cousin Phil's swearing in at the Foreign Service!).

Mom wasn't able to go to the swearing-in ceremony, so she visited Arlington National Cemetery. We met up after for dinner at Annie's Steakhouse in Dupont Circle. My mom had a coupon she wanted to use (classic mom), but it was only valid with a $100 food purchase . . . so we ate tons. It was pretty standard steakhouse fare, but the service was great. Our waiter had been serving there for over thirty years, and the older waitress in the section next him had been there for over forty! Even the people dining around us were so friendly. 

Saturday: Mom and I hit up Eastern Market in the morning for some breakfast and shopping! We hit the jackpot with a few vendors--I found some wispy, floor-length silk skirts to wear in Jordan ($15!) and my mom bought an adorable skirt made of patches of vintage fabrics.

Then mother dragged me to a salon to chop off four inches of hair. ONLY MY MOTHER could make me do such a thing! It was needed, though--the ends of my hair were completely fried. I actually love my haircut! And hopefully it'll grow faster now that most of the dead stuff is gone :) PLEASE, HAIR?!?!?!

We returned to Eastern Market to meet up with Brock, where he and I introduced my mother to the heaven that is Good Stuff's toasted marshmallow shake. Then we walked over to our favorite bookstore (my mom bought Brock Freedom by Jonathon Franzen as a reward for his finishing War and Peace), and to the Library of Congress.

Our plans that night revolved around dinner with my relatives at an Ethiopian restaurant in Adams Morgan called Meskerem (Phil's first tour is in Djibouti, which borders Ethiopia). Before heading to dinner, my mom and I made a quick detour to her hotel room and soaked our poor, tired feetsies in ice water. It felt so good.

Meskerem was fantastic! Ethiopian meals are communal--everyone sat on stools and ate from big huge plates of food. Also: No silverware! They have a very spongy bread called injera. Not only is food served on a huge circle of injera that soaks up the flavor of the meat and spices, you take other pieces of injera with your fingers to pick things off the plate. AWESOME.

To cap the day off, Brock and I took everyone on a three-hour night bike tour around the National Mall. (How we had energy for this, I don't know.) We hit up everything--the Vietnam, Lincoln, Korean, and WWII memorials, the Washington Monument, and the Jefferson and FDR memorials along the Tidal Basin.

Sunday: Oh, you thought my mom would be out of energy by this day? HA! We got up early in the morning for a quick visit to the White House (not inside--I wish!), and then off to church. My mom got to see the DC 3rd Ward in alllllll its glory. I love Sister Mack--the old woman with no teeth who stands up and sings gospel songs as her testimony (the congregation sings along!).

You got to staaaand your test in judgement
You got to staaaand it for yourself
Ain't nobody else can stand it for you
You got to staaaand it for yourself

I love Brother Kamosi, who was exiled from the Congo for political dissidence and now makes it a point to introduce every single visitor, every single week to the entire ward.

I love all the recent converts who breathe such life into the gospel and whose insights are just beautiful.

I love how everybody starts off their testimonies by saying "Good afternoon, brothers and sisters." And everybody says "Good afternoon!" back to them.

I love the soul! "Mmmmmm dear Lawwwwd I was a sinner befo', but now I seen the light and it done turn my life around. I love this church and I love this gospel, thank you Jesus." You just don't get that stuff in Utah, ha ;)

After church I bid mother adieu at her hotel. She wore us out, but it was well worth it! Love you, mom!

Let's Talk About Sex

"Our standards nights and chastity lessons usually focus on the dangers of strong sexual desire. Predictably, we exhort young men to bridle their libidos, which we describe as wild beasts that must be restrained until domestication in marriage, and we caution young women to avoid arousing and indulging the young men -- tempting the beast out of its cage, so to speak.

It's a troubling model for a number of reasons, but I'll address just one: by focusing on physiological motivators for teenage sex, we completely overlook significant psychological motivators. This oversight shortchanges all youth, and exacerbates the risk of young women's needs flying under the standards night radar completely. After dismissing libido as a serious issue for them (which may be a mistake in and of itself), we turn their attention to assisting their male peers without even considering other compelling reasons for sexual behavior. In our outreach we miss the mark by emphasizing virtue, modesty, and chastity without considering what might motivate a young woman to eschew the same.

To put it simply, thirteen-, fourteen-, and fifteen-year-old girls don't have sex because they desperately want sex. They have sex because they desperately want something else."

***

This is an excerpt from a fantastic article I just read. Although it's written by an LDS woman and addresses the way the Church talks about sexuality, the insights from are universal. It made me think about how my views on sex came to be, where they are now, and how I plan on teaching my children.

When I got engaged, a few women told me "If you want a happy marriage, don't ever deny your husband sex." For real?! That is probably the worst advice you could give to a bride-to-be. Since when is sex something that you give to your husband, rather than something you share? I'm sure that wasn't the intended implication behind this advice, but it's there.

Not every eighteen-year old has a healthy attitude about sex. But I think I did. And it wasn't because I had a lot of experience with guys (I hadn't), or because I read stacks of Cosmopolitan (I didn't), or because my parents were exceptionally open and frank (they weren't).

The Church advises its youth not to date until they're sixteen. Growing up, I thought this was torture. I was very good about following this rule (mostly because my parents said they'd give me $1000 if I didn't kiss anybody until after graduation). BUT MY MOTIVATION IS NOT THE POINT HERE! The point is that I did it. Not only did this keep me from doing stupid stuff that I'd regret later, it helped me realize I was powerful.

There were boys who were attracted to me before I was sixteen. Sometimes I was attracted to them as well. But instead of going off and having a stupid six-week relationship like every other teenage couple, I said no. I said no before a relationship even started, which put me in control. Even though I did it begrudgingly, and even though I cast the blame on "that stupid rule my Church does" (instead of proudly standing up for my beliefs), I still did it.

I didn't recognize it at the time, but that helped me take ownership of my sexuality. What a commanding thing for a young woman to have! In addition, I learned how to be friends with guys. No games. Learning how to relate with the opposite sex requires a lot more from a girl than simply being attractive. As I learned to do that, I started basing my self-worth on my personality, not my body.

***

To make a long story short: Read the article. Too many women are growing up with too many misgivings about their sexuality. Let's change that, eh?