Last night, Kim and took a break from our frenetic, late-night, last-minute packing spree to attend a Nationals game. The event was a birthday celebration for one of out closest DC friends, Danni (a fellow Delaware River Valley native). We decided one more night of fun and relaxation with our friends would leave us more rested and less stressed in the long run. I couldn’t be happier with the decision. The experience had relatively little to do with the game (is anyone worried that the Nats might lose to the Pirates in early June?); it was more about having one last slice of all things DC, and for that matter, American. My friends and I talked a little about politics, ate hot dogs, had $8 beers, and cheered for home runs and fireworks, all while a blazing orange and red sun set behind Washington Monument.
Obligatory cherry blossom photo to accompany mention of Washington, DC
I expected to feel sad about my time in DC coming to a close, but last night’s overarching tone was one of gladness. I’m glad I lived in DC for three years and made lasting friendships. I’m also glad I’m seeing what other lifestyles, environments, and experiences have to offer. Kim and I don’t always have a comprehensive explanation for why we’re moving to Portland, but we do know that our prior time in the West has filled us with curiosity. I guess that’s not a novel line of reasoning. The American West has long represented uncertainty tempered with opportunity, the very essence of the pioneer spirit. I won’t go as far as to say we’ll be panning for gold or fulfilling our manifest destiny, but I’d like to think we’re propelled by a similar sense of wonder.
To be sure, there are things that Kim and I will miss about DC. This list includes, but is in no way limited to:
Our wonderful core group of DC friends: Most of us were transplants from Bucknell, but we also had some wonderful additions. A select group of us immigrated here together, secretly hoping the wilds of adulthood would be easier to navigate as a pack. Many left before us, and some those remaining have their own exit strategies in motion, as is common practice in this city. Yet in the three years we’ve been here, it feels like we’ve grown up together, and we’re all better for it.
My Job: Another typical DC experience was my foray into the world of government consulting. I had the privilege doing what I loved in two respects. 1. writing, though not very freely or creatively, and 2. ultimately working toward environmental protection. Kim entered two other major DC employment areas, legal and non-profit, and I think gained valuable insight into both spheres. Luckily Kim will be taking job with her.
Cleveland Park: A neighborhood with a small town feel, located in large city. Living on Connecticut Ave provided us everything we could want from a view of the park, to a vintage movie theatre down the street.
The famous Uptown Theater, pride of Cleveland Park
Rock Creek Park: Beautiful in all seasons for running, cycling, and even commuting. Seeing deer and foxes on my bike ride to work isn’t something I expected when I moved down here, I was pleasantly surprised.
Before I start getting too sentimental, I have to mention a few things we probably won’t miss.
The Metro: I’m just glad I’m getting out of Dodge before it costs $16 per trip at rush hour. It’s a good public transit system that alleviates what otherwise a traffic nightmare (instead of just a fiasco, which it is currently). With luck, I’ve spent my last 40-minute train ride fighting for enough room to fully exhale. No more listening to interns in oversized blazers lying to girls about the importance of their role on the Hill. I also won’t miss the “Blackberry Jams”, during which everyone who is simultaneously looking down at their Blackberries anf iPhones clog the train doorways for people who actually understand the concept of courtesy for “other people”.
Smugness: I realize that smugness isn’t really going anywhere, but I’m hoping I can trade DC smugness for a more tolerable level. It’s a gross over-generalization, I know. But it’s also painful to listen after a while. It gets old. I wish I could just assure everyone in this city that they are indeed very, very important, and yes, I really should go sailing on your dad’s boat sometime. I think I just came off as smug with this rant. I’m infected! Another sign that it’s time to go.
And I really can’t think of much else. We’re not leaving DC because we were sick of it. Truth is, it was actually just starting to feel like home. Maybe that’s part of why it seemed like it was time to explore something new. I feel like this is one of those amiable breakups where both sides acknowledges that the thrill is gone, and maybe we’d both be happier going our separate ways. Secretly, we’re found another, newer, more intriguing city. We even snuck out late and visited it back in April. DC, the bachelor that it is, will be just fine without us. I can tell when I go to Adams Morgan, or even look at the new faces in my office, that there are bright-eyed twenty-somethings ready to take our places the second our Penske truck crosses Western Ave. on Saturday.
“Most likely you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine…Don’t think twice, it’s all right.”
-either Bob Dylan or Will.i.am, not sure after watching too many Pepsi commercials.
Au revoir DC.
Bound for Portland 