It's the Little Things in Life

It's the Little Things in Life

To say that I go home in 5 days would be to deny the fact that DC is indeed my second home.  It's crazy how a place so fresh and foreign can become so familiar and such a part of you in no time. You think: monuments, memorials, museums, stars, stripes, and presidents. I think: the street vendor on the corner of 13th and Pennsylvania, packing in metro cars like sardines, movie nights with floormates, casual strolls past heated political rallies. As much as TWC has given me the quintessential Washington experience, it is really the little, precious moments that go undocumented in TWC literature, the internet, or common knowledge that have made MY experience greater than the sum of its parts.



Capitol Hill Books. I'm one to turn down a Nook or Kindle for an actual paperback, and this hidden gem of a store has every section stacked to the ceiling with every genre imaginable. (Not good for claustrophobes!)  I asked the owner where books on "Elizabethan England" were, and he led me to the very corner of the second floor in the back. He knows his stuff!







Every Wednesday evening of the summer, the NoMa neighborhood hosts an outdoor movie screening.  Imagine a large green field filled with people, puppies, and picnic blankets, food trucks galore, a cool breeze, and beautiful sunset.  Since I had my class on Wednesdays, I could never go...until midterm week, class was canceled and the lovely Clarice and I took full advantage of the chance. The movie of choice was "Perks of Being a Wallflower", all the more reason to go! One thing I did not realize about Washington: how late the sun sets.  We ended up chatting for three hours, and the movie still hadn't started, so we decided to call it quits and head back to the RAF. What do you know, as we get up, darkness falls and the screening starts.  Oh well.  We went back to Clarice's room, and she taught me to bake Artisan Bread. I was shocked and impressed that she made her own bread, since I figured it was just as easy to buy a loaf. It really is a fine art though, and I am now somewhat skilled in the process of kneading and cloaking (bread terms).



With one week left on the job, why not learn a new skill? On our last day, the interns at the Trust give a presentation of their accomplishments throught the semester, and Prezi is the new PowerPoint. I have a feeling I'll be learning things until the very last day here, which is fine by me!



Our last TWC programming event took my program, Advocacy, Service, and Arts, to the National Mall.  Since my work revolves around here, my program advisor willingly let me play tour guide and lead the way.  I'm ashamed to admit that despite working for the promotion and preservation of these sites, it had been my first chance visiting the MLK Jr., FDR, and Jefferson Memorials on the trip. The 70 degree weather made this ordinary day extraordinary.



InDiGo, how I'll miss you so! I spent 8 weeks too many deciding whether or not to try the tiny family-owned, hole-in-the-wall looking restaurant on the corner. I had only had Indian food a few times before, and after failing to decipher the foreign sounding dishes on the menu, and then failing to decide which one to order, I went with the sampler platter. Perfect for indecisive people!  Mine ended up including spicy chicken masala (not spicy enough), black lentils - daal -, spicy squash, okra, and raati, and basmati rice.  Note for the future: if it's a hole-in-the-wall, question it. If it's family-owned, go to it.


On even the gloomiest of days, a most picturesque walk down the street.



One of my several lunchtime strolls. Don't let its beauty fool you; sirens, rallies, security, and swarms of tourists are inevitable. Though I suppose that's what defines it's beauty.



Cousin date with Kate! I'm so glad the new Silver Line metro opened up last week before I left. I took full advantage of it and rode all the way out to Tyson's Corner, a shopping center in nearby Virginia that is as much a tourist attraction as any museum. Lunch at Brio, silliness in the UrbanOutfitters photobooth, and much-needed girl time was on the agenda.



And lastly...there is no greater feeling than the feeling of accomplishment. The culmination of frustration, motivation, and anticipation - no amount of resumes, work samples, individual development plans, or academic components can do justice how rewarding it felt to get the infamous portfolio off my hands.


But there is also no greater feeling than knowing that you've enjoyed 10 weeks so thoroughly that no words, no pictures, no literature could summarize your appreciation for a city so vibrant, an experience so exhausting, people so genuine, and a summer so memorable.

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