When I moved to DC back in the late 90s, I wanted to live in Dupont Circle. Nothing really shocking about that. You ask any young white person back then where was somewhere cool to live, and you can be sure that would be the first place off their lips. Possibly the only place, depending on how much they knew the city. Even Adams Morgan was still a bit questionable back then. (I remember them moving the Adams Morgan Day festival to the Mall one year to avoid gangs in the actual neighborhood).
And for the whole time I was trying to get settled in the city, Dupont Circle did glow as this ideal place to go. It’s always filled with people. It’s as safe as a big city gets. It had nothing to do with the tourist-DC. It has food, and entertainment, and people yelling strange things on the street.
I didn’t actually end up there, but wasn’t too far away. But everything that glows, fades. The circle itself isn’t much different, but the way I looked at it did. I’m not going to bore you to death by examining why my perceptions changed, but they did. The circle was still a decent place to be, but it didn’t feel magical anymore.
In the last year or two, I’ve spent a lot of times at various places around the circle. I’m not drunk enough to claim that it’s in any way magical again. But I think it’s one of the closest things DC has now to the big city image you see in melodramatic movies. In particular, I love sitting in the coffee shop, facing out the giant, old windows. They’re the biggest, highest-def, brightest movie screen you’ve ever seen. Sit there long enough and everything will walk, roll, or shamble past, eventually.
You have no idea how hard it is to not pull out my camera and spend all day taking pictures of the people passing by.
I dropped Indri off at the bus yesterday afternoon. No offense to anyone who’s ever visited me, but when I finally turned around to walk back to my place, I actually missed her. I don’t usually miss weekend visitors once they finally leave. Quite the opposite. No matter how great they may be, I’ve been living alone long enough, and rely enough on my weekends to unwind, that visitors throw off my rhythm.I don’t get to calm down. I don’t get time alone to get my head straight.
But I did miss Indri.
So yeah… it was a nice weekend. Just… fun. Nothing spectacular. But it was fun. And active. And … and I ate way too much, and didn’t get enough sleep, really. (As attested to by my oversleeping this morning.) We saw dead people at the Holocaust museum and living things at the Botanical Garden. We finished off the weekend at the zoo, with lots of cute furry things and disgusting slimy things. And Indri rambles on and on, never at a loss for words, except when I said something incredibly stupid, at which point she stares at me like a dog who can’t understand the crazy things humans do. But she’s smart and she’s cute, and she’s nowhere near as innocent and sweet as she would have you believe. (Just look at her obsession with her own butt.)