I Wasn't Practicing to be a Ballerina.

I was moving from D.C. to Edmonton, from couch to couch, and now, I'm in dorms. Training 8-10, and exhausted. I wish I had something more daring and touching to say, but I'm so tired my hair hurts. I will be back on track in a few days. As for now, I'm just praying the clean sheet fairy comes.

I Want to be a Ballerina.

Hey Sister, Pass the Nalgene.

Had a really awesome night last night - Bryan and I went to the Washington Monument with our upstairs neighbours Noah and Samantha to listen to the U.S. Navy Band play. They were playing the 1812 Overture, complete with cannons firing in all the right places. It was so much fun! We brought wine in a Nalgene and passed it around like a well to do set of wino's, and then broke out the tetra packs. *laugh* While Bryan was well aware that he had to go to school in the morning, Samantha and I drank like there was no tomorrow. So this morning, a shower, a bagel, a pastry, two asprin, two cups of coffee and a prayer later... I'm still standing. Which is more than I could say for the Washington Monument last I saw it last night. Huh.

Read Me a Bedtime Story

The things you find on your boyfriend's shelf when moving.

Advice/Lessons/Warnings

Dear Classless Sucubus.

I realise that your percieved likeness to Britney Spears/Ashley Olson/Nicole Richie makes you delusional as to your obligations to polite society, but alas, it does not. So please, take this opportunity to allow me to help you, help yourself - and observe these brief, though important lessons on social politess. Lest you be hit by a car/golf club/open fist next time I see you.

1. When laying by the pool in your too-small bikini and trucker hat, please do not subject us to your endless, though seemingly incredibly important, cellphone conversations. Though the conversation may appear to be infinately enthralling to you, rest assured that it is anything but to us, and we have no interest in your friends divorce/case of crabs/drunken mistakes. Lower your voice to where it is audible to your caller, and spare us the pain of eyes rolled too many times.

2. I realise that you may have bought your jeans at pee-wee hermans funhouse of mirrors, but please, before you venture into polite society, have your mother/friend/taxi driver assess the rolls/muffin tops/love handles protruding over the sides. If you are a size 6, attempt to purchase a size 6 pair of pants. Please leave size 4s,2s and 0s.. to those who wear them. It is much more flattering for you, and less painful for us.

3.Unless you are a cowgirl, do not spit. Ever. Period.

4.While it is entirely possible that you were raised in a barn/on a sailing ship/on Jerry Springer, there is no reason to demonstrate this by peppering your speech with expletives enough to make Tarantino blush. While a well muttered f-bomb may have it's place occasionally, it is not to be used as a verb, pronoun, adjective or vegetable in everyday society, much less when there are children present. A "mother-trucker"/"fox creek"/"son of a witch" are all facile replacements, and those around you will be spared scorched ears.

Without a doubt, I could proceed endlessly, citing your penchant for entering the pool covered in oil, thereby leaving a classless scum on the surface, or your cow cud like mastication of gum in entirely inappropriate locations (appropriate, of course, limited to the ballpark) and your public intoxication and displays of affection, but given your short skirts/shorter attention span, we will limit ourselves to these brief four suggestions. Please, heed them well. Or be prepared to weather my rage/hate/violence.

Sincerely,

Ms. Poshlust

Hezbollah 1, Israel 2. Lebanese? 0

So after a day of intense ceasefire, a winner has been declared. Sort of.

In a threeway donkey tie to the bombed out finishline, Israel has declared the "elimination of a state within a state", Hezbollah declared "a strategic, historic victory" and Bush, not one to remain unquoted, stated that Hezbollah "suffered a defeat, and were the cause of the destruction."

The Lebanese administration was silent, and counted the 692 dead.

Really? No.

Um, has anybody with three bits of foreign policy and ceasefire sense to rub together actually examined the "ceasefire" that went into effect this morning at 8am? Because frankly, you might as well wrap my kosher West Bank ass in it, because that's about what it's worth.

Hezbollah and Lebanon quickly agreed to the ceasefire proposal put forth, better late than never, by the U.N. Security Council on Saturday morning, and Israeli forces agreed to the 8am deadline later, though not before getting their last punches in hours before the official cessation part of the "cease-fire" began.

But get this. Hezbollah have stated that they will continue to fight Israeli troops as long as they remained in Southern Lebanon, and Israeli troops have refused to withdraw until an international force and Lebanese force take control of the south.. In two to three weeks. Israeli Defense Minister Amir Peretz stated "There is no situation in which Hezbollah fires at Israeli forces that we will not retaliate."

Will you stop fighting?
Yes.
Really?
No.

But hey, doesn't it look like we're doing something right? At least the Security Council can wash thier hands. They tried, right? Apparently, that's enough.

(Quote courtesy of The Washington Post, Monday August 14th.)

A Different American Church

Bryan took me to my first major league baseball game on Sunday - Mets vs. Nats. It was awesome. So many people there.. phew. So much beer.. in plastic bottles! Strange. We had ok seats, so we moved up to GREAT seats, and sat and watched and drank beer and really had a fabulous time. There is a point where you can both relax, not talk, just sit, knowing you're in the proximity of somebody you love... and just enjoy the day. It was wonderful. Came home and made a great dinner of porkchops and my salad, white beans in garlic and oil, french bread, cheese.. So much good food. Sat and watched the "Matador" and promptly went to bed. *sigh* Perfect.

The Kitchen is a Dangerous Place

Aww....

Do Your Thing

Bryan was grumpy about moving. This was my solution. Unfortunately, surreptitiously filming it was his.

Two Kisses Please

Went to the fabulous Bistrot Du Coin just off of Dupont last night for french food. Sometimes evenings are just built to be perfect, like jenga towers or souffles or high heeled shoes, where they never fall or pinch, and leave the perfect taste in your mouth the next morning. Last night was a night like that. We ended up talking to the table next to us for half the evening, in between gazing out into the street, people watching, and enjoying each others company. How will I leave him?

What Happened Here?

Went on a little tourist jaunt - saw Ford's theatre where Lincoln was shot, and the subsequent house where he died. It was oddly moving, even for a non-American. The theatre is actually a funtioning theatre (though I doubt their bills of "An American Cousin" ever sell out) - and quite beautiful.

The Inconvienient Truth

Bryan and I went to see Al Gore's film tonight about Global Warming.. and we really enjoyed it. It was definately something I assumed (and rightly so) would be educational, what I didn't expect was that it would be also very touching, and funny! Al Gore is really funny!! A contributing factor could have been the fact that we visited a theatre that served liquor, to that extent I'm sure Carl Rove is friggin' hilarious...

Truly though, it was a fabulous film, and totally changed my somewhat Republican view on Global Warming. Both Bryan and I find emotional appellations to fall on deaf ears, what was so remarkable in "The Inconvienient Truth" is that the scientific facts are themselves compelling enough to add emotion. Non-believers.. see this film. And let me know what it's like without the demi bottle of Pinot Noir.

D.C. Dancers

I've mailed this to a bunch of you.. but figured since I finally found out how to load to YouTube AND publish to my blog - you should see it! This brass band plays Friday and Saturday around Starbucks, and everyone just crowds the street to listen and dance. This girl jumped off the curb.. and started dancing.

If You Need Any Help, My Name is Andrea...

The Gap went high tech. And we are, as a society, officially lazy.

My Band-Aid

I volunteered this morning at S.O.M.E. over on O street to cook eggs for the breakfast program that they have there. I saw the notice in the Foundry Church bulletin last Sunday and figured that since I generally wasn't doing anything at 6 in the morning, might as well do my good deed, right?

There is something simultaneously beautiful, and heartbreaking about learning that people have been cooking breakfast there for those who need it.. for 20 years. You feel like you can give yourself a pat on the back, for cracking 3 dozen eggs and leaning over a stove.. until you learn that you're just one more person that doesn't really make that big of a difference. Sure, you might leave more or less eggshells in the mix than somebody else.. But really, that's about it. Surrounded by architechts and statititians, kitchen manager and dishwashers, you realise that there will be somebody tomorrow morning to take your place, to cook the eggs, the make the wheel turn. The next day, and the next.

Bryan and I have differing views on the band-aid nature of soup kitchens and breakfast programs. Bryan focuses on treating the disease, the social programs and issues, whereas I see the incredible paradigmatic shift that would be required.. and keep applying band-aids. If I wasn't there, if S.O.M.E. wasn't there, they would undoubtably find somewhere to eat, somewhere to sit for coffee and a banana and eggs and bacon. Bryan believes that that's what should be done, that it only reinforces the problem, giving a ready solution that is all too easy to take advantage of. If you know that you'll be fed, do you not try as hard to buy your own food? I believe that those that "take advantage" in the negative sense, are few and far between. Human dignity and pride keeps most of us off the foodline, out of soup kitchens. I believe that people are basically and intrinsically good, and striving, and trying, and that occasionally, we fall short, and need a cup of coffee, and a banana, and a plate of bacon and eggs. The answer, I'm sure, lies somewhere inbetween. Between a band-aid that has been there for so long, that it's part of the system, and a system that is so rotten, it might fall apart without the bandaid.

But, however small the effect, however little the ripple, and the fact that I smell terribly like bacon and eggs... I'm proud of my little band-aid.

Jitterbug!

Jitterbugs - Serigraph on newsprint, 1941 William H. Johnson

Two Down

The portrait gallery has 3 floors, and yesterday I did the second, encompassing portraits of the presidents of the U.S.A., war photography portraits of Krushev and the like, the Portrait Competition, and William H. Johnson's exhibit. It was, as expected, wonderful.

The presidential portraits were very interesting. Sometimes the choice of painter for the respective president was all too interesting. Nixon, for example, had his portrait painted by Norman Rockwell, master of the benignly American - which we all know that Nixon was most definately NOT. John F. Kennedy, a man who changed the face of the presidency - chose Elaine de Kooning - who subsequently heavily impacted the face of impressionist art.

The Portrait Competition was really interesting as well, and I'll include a couple of my favorites. It is strange, the mix of portraits and self portraits.. what we see when we look in the mirror, what others see when they look at us. It was beautiful, and grotesque, and touching, sometimes all at once.

William H. Johnson had 3 individual galleries dedicated to his works, which I stood and admired for at least an hour. Linear and highly stylized lino cuts and serigraphs made up the majority of the collection, mostly a mix of rural and incredibly urban scenes of black people. They are distinct and stunning, and definately worth a stop.

Overall, another wonderful day at the galleries. How will I ever leave D.C.?

Portraits Galore

Clockwise -
J.F.K. by Elaine de Kooning
Still Image 24-Andrea - Oil on Canvas, Alan Caomin Xie
Magnet #3 - Egg Tempera on Linen, Nuno de Campos
My Father in the Living Room of Our 10th House - Oil on Canvas, James Seward

Papers

Isreal dropped leaflets warning residents to be off the roads of Tyre, or risk being viewed as Hezbollah arms transporters, and duly bombed. You can bomb three or four cars, but what if everyone drove? You can't bomb them all - can you? Isn't the will of the Lebanese people evident in their willingness to simply obey? Or is that what we're supposed to believe? Is this an indication of their faith in the Isreali attack on Hezbollah? Would it be the same next month, a year from now, or would they drive indifferent to the leaflets? When will the faith wane? When will the fear?

Papers in all the boxes, all along the street, tout the arrest of one, two, maybe three Hezbollah millitants. This is not unlike the U.S. offensive in Iraq, where we are rewarded for our faith in the offensive by the occasion killing or capture in the deck of terrorist cards that the government holds so close to their chest. The Isreali offensive is mirrored in our papers, asking us to believe that it's the right thing.

I don't know what to believe.

Heads Up.

I'm not sure what this is. It simply said on the window "Memorial. (Collapse)" It's not an exhibition space.. or it wasn't. Just a building for rent.

Vacationing in Afghanistan

Went out to HR-57 last night with Bryan and our friend Sabina to see a movie called "Vacationing in Afghanistan". Put out by a production company called thefullmonte, it was a small, fifteen minute film about a side trip these two journalists took while in Afghanistan filming the first election. One of them is a reporter and photographer for National Geographic, the other is a cameraman in the same capacity. (That's what I gathered at least) The film was sweet and excellent, a really touching view of the comedic and kind side of Afghans that we usually don't see in the media at large. From what I can tell from the website, thats exactly what they're looking to be - the media at small. You can fund a film and offer a story too - I wish I could send them to India. It was a great way to spend an evening, with a bottle of wine and a room full of curious people.

Help Me. Please.

I'm going insane. I can't sleep. When I do sleep, it's dreams. But now the sleeplessness has almost outweighed the dreamfulness. I've slept maybe 3 hours the past few nights, and I feel like I'm going crazy. Like, literally, laugh at things that aren't funny, googly eyed, high voiced crazy. Does anyone have any suggestions? I'm not anxious, I'm not sick, I just.. can't..sleep. Help. Please.

My Favorite Mask

I Think I Smell Musty

I have been to just about every Gallery or Museum in D.C the past few days, and my feet hurt. *laughing* I have walked from here to.. seemingly eternity (I hate taking any of the three million cabs) in the 40 degree heat and the 200% humidity to sweat in awe at many, many paintings. Yesterday I went to the Freer, Sackler and African Art Galleries on the other side of town. I really need to better interpret the "scale" portion of the maps, because apparently, one inch is like, 5 miles. Damn it. By the time I got to the Freer I had sweat coming off my pigtail braids, and the gaurd immediately directed me to the washroom, instead of the exhibits. *laughing* But they were all worth it, and here's why....

Freer

Freer gallery holds a really impressive group of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Indian, Persian, Islamic and Buddhist art, as well as a huge holding of Whistler's works. Charles Freer, the founder, was a patron of Whistler, as well as Dewing and Thayer. Each artist, though very American, each imbibed their works with instances of oriental style craft, which Freer enjoyed.

Highlights
- Thayers "A Virgin"
- Whistler's "Caprice in Purple and Gold - The Golden Screen"
- Dewing's "The Garland"


Sackler

While the pottery and glass and ceramic work are impressive, unless you find it fascinating.. it's a little much. I can look at a lot of teacups and buddha sculptures.. but it wore on me. The Egyptian works are really interesting, some of it is so detailed and intricate that it really is worth a stop. Otherwise.. well.. a teacup is a teacup.

There is an intersting exhibit right now based on Portraiture through the ages, from early Chinese actors to contemporary portraits in the Muslim world - it's very interesting. Modern and ancient works are all thrown together, and though I felt they were a little hodgepodge, the unifying fact that they were all portraits really brought the exhibit together. I couldn't help wondering what it was that makes humans so desperate to be witnessed, to pass marked somewhere, to make a record of ourselves. What are we so afraid of?

Highlights
- Empress Dowager Cixi Posing as Guanyin
-Jannane al-Ani's dual portraits of veiled family members



African Art Gallery

I have to say, because I've never visited anything like this gallery, I really enjoyed it. The exhibits range from textiles and printmaking, masks and musical instruments from long ago, to contemporary paintings, sculpture and mixed media. I did find, however, that unlike most exhibits in Smithsonians, the exhibits were not very well marked with appropriate tribes or locations, most were very vague or "unknown" - very strange.

Entitled "Body of Evidence" there are definately some beautiful pieces within the contemporary gallery, definately very interesting, and featured a number of up and coming African artists. Rarely have I been exposed to the proverbs and symbolism contained in African art, and really enjoyed finding both in older, and more contemporary art.

Highlights
-Kwesi Owusu-Ankomah's "Off My Back"
-Jeremy Wafer's "African Form I-VIII".

All I Have To Do...

I have been dreaming incessantly. Long, drawn out, exhausting dreams that leave me sleepier when I wake up than when I go to bed. My brain is always going. Dreams of sadness and pain and unhappiness and desert islands and red dresses and moving and babies and bicycles and dancing and Frank Sinatra and spying and falling. It hasn't stopped for 5 days now. I wake up at ten minutes after two every morning and my heart is racing and I can't breath and my feet are so hot and my heart is in my throat. And I can't sleep anything but this sleep that really isn't sleep at all but this painful movie-going experience that never ends and I don't buy a ticket to.

Yet Another Sushi Picture...

Strange, but we always seem to snap a shot when we're out for sushi. Huh.

Lazy Days

Spent the weekend in a perfect weekend way. Saturday I rode the bike with Bryan while he did his 10 mile run, then we stopped at Dean and Deluca's for coffee and some croissant. Got home, showered, and went to the Eastern Market. It's a fabulous little market with jewellery and paintings and huge tomatoes and peaches and basil. I loved it, even though it was about 45 degrees in the shade. We stopped at a little cafe called Bread and Chocolate and had amazing eggs benedict and fresh squeezed orange juice. Bought homemade pasta and beefsteak tomatoes and peaches, and made an amazing dinner of Ahi and pasta and salad and fried tomatoes. Sunday, we went to church and then to a brunch and I wore my big hat and felt like I was at peace.. and ate eggs benedict and had bloody marys. Then we lay on the roof by the pool for 6 hours in the sun and drank white wine with our friend Samantha from the 11th floor and laughed and talked books and politics and Ethiopian food and enjoyed getting the little sting from too much laughter and too much sun right on your belly. Perfect.

Found at Scott Circle and Mass Ave

Does anyone else find it strange that I find an abandoned pair of shoes everytime I come to DC?

Dancing In the Street

I took Bryan out for a little dinner at our favorite French place around Dupont Circle last night, and had a lovely time. It's always so bustling and fun and loud, full of good food. I've never had a bad time there. We wandered down to the Circle after, and caught the huge brass band that plays on the rotunda on the overpass. It is so amazing. About 10 guys, playing drums, saxaphone, tuba, trombone, tambourine - it was fantastic. Everyone gathers on the sides of the street, in the street, and dances and has such an amazing time. I even got to go up on stage and shake a little maraca! (Does anyone know how to spell that word?) It was unbelievable.. Everyone sweating these little golden beads, the incredible drum beat, the dancing, the heat, the energy. My soul smiled.

The Duke and I

There are but two photos in Bryan's room. That of myself, about a year ago upon my return from the mountains, and, that of John Wayne in the film "The Green Berets". Should I be worried that that Wayne is bigger than me by about a 1:10 ratio.. or just be happy that it's a picture of the Duke, and not the Boss?

B and Me!

Four Top Please

Made dinner for Bryan and his friends Mike and Mirentxu last night - it was fabulous, if I do say so myself - and pretty easy. We had a wonderful time, I got everything to be cooked and done at the right moment, and we had a fantastic evening. We went out dancing at Citron, this little salsa club which has prolific "Do Not Dance on the Tables" signs that are duly ignored. Mike and Mirentxu are wonderful, and we all had such a good time. Yay for good food and good friends.

Brown Sugar Salmon

	1 tablespoon honey
	1 tablespoon brown sugar
	2 teaspoons unsalted butter
	2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
	1 whole salmon fillet, skin on; about 2.5 lbs and three-fourths to 1 inch thick

The sauce:
In a small sauté pan over medium heat (best to do this part on the range), melt the brown sugar with the honey and butter. Remove from heat and whisk in the mustard, soy sauce, olive oil and ginger. Allow to cool.

Place the salmon, skin side down, on a large sheet of aluminum foil. Trim the foil to leave a border of about one-fourth to one-half inch around the edge of the salmon. Coat the flesh of the salmon with the brown sugar mixture.

Bake the salmon indirectly at about 350 degrees until the edges begin to brown and the inside is opaque, about 25 – 30 minutes. Cut the salmon crosswise into 6 to 8 pieces, but do not cut through the skin. Slide a spatula between the skin and flesh to remove the salmon pieces to a serving platter or individual plates. Serve immediately, and enjoy!

*I more than doubled the sauce, and it carmalized around the edges.. super yum. The salmon was line caught in Alaska, courtesy of Bryan! Pretty cool...

Lemon Brown Butter Green Beans

1/4 lb haricots verts or other thin green beans, trimmed
1 1/8 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

Cook beans in a 2-quart heavy saucepan of boiling water seasoned with 1 teaspoon salt until crisp-tender, about 3 minutes, then drain in a colander. Wipe out pan and cook butter over moderate heat until deep golden, about 2 minutes. Stir in lemon juice and remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt and remove pan from heat. Add beans and toss well.

*I added about half a cup of pine nuts to the finished product, and tripled the recipe. Sue me, I like butter.

Baked Peaches with White Chocolate

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons (packed) dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
4 unpeeled peaches, halved, pitted
1/3 cup finely chopped white chocolate
3 tablespoons coarsely chopped toasted salted pistachios
4 scoops vanilla ice cream

Whisk first 3 ingredients in large bowl to blend. Add peach halves; toss to coat well. Place peaches, cut side down, in dish, then use the rest of the mix to cover. Bake peaches in a 2 inch deep dish - the recipe initially calls for barbequeing, but our barbeque sucks, and I was afraid they'd taste like steak. So broiling them about 3 minutes each side, or until hot all the way through worked just as well. Melt white chocolate and spoon over ice cream, divide peach halves among bowls. Sprinkle with pistachios and serve.