Abby, Kendra, James and I ate lunch and made our way to Alexandria for the afternoon. It was a lazy day, and the air was mercifully cool - courtesy of the edges of Hurricane Arthur, which had threatened to literally dampen our 4th of July plans. By the time Friday rolled around, though, it had begun to dissipate. King St. in Alexandria is full of all kinds of shops, and I lost count of how many we went into. A peaceful resale book shop. A comic book store (which smelled strongly of ... well, something. The owner had tried to cover up the sickeningly sweet odor with incense, but it was obvious. You know what I'm talking about. Don't go there.). There was a cupcake shop that we visited before moving on and going into a gift shop... I'll confess that I still don't understand this obsession with cupcakes that so many people appear to have here. My roommates still don't understand why I'm not on board. It's like a cult... but my chocolate cupcake was good. Very good.
... If I lived here, opening a cupcake shop might be a good career move. They're certainly expensive treats and the demand is present.
... If I lived here, opening a cupcake shop might be a good career move. They're certainly expensive treats and the demand is present.
As we strolled along the riverfront, a volleyball court appeared, and the other three held a pickup game with three strangers until everyone tired of it.
On the way back to drop our purchases off at the RAF, James made a believable excuse and ran off, leaving us to walk home and to the national mall by ourselves. Eventually we found James-- and Kendra's boyfriend appeared and asked a special question...! (No pictures because I was holding the video camera. You can find them on her facebook page, though!)
My original intention had been to watch fireworks from the Iwo Jima memorial across the river, but in a way I'm thankful for having experienced the 4th of July at the national mall. The explosions of the fireworks were almost tangible in the way that they reached through space to rock you in your own skeleton. What an indescribable feeling.
My original intention had been to watch fireworks from the Iwo Jima memorial across the river, but in a way I'm thankful for having experienced the 4th of July at the national mall. The explosions of the fireworks were almost tangible in the way that they reached through space to rock you in your own skeleton. What an indescribable feeling.
Perhaps it was the emotion attached to the city. Perhaps it was the emotion from the day's events. Perhaps it was something else... but this 4th of July was different. Perhaps I was more aware of everything because I wasn't home. Wasn't eating barbecue with my family. Wasn't in my small hometown. Wasn't participating in the same comforting practices that I had engaged in for the past 22 years.
James, Abby, and I walked home quietly, surrounded by pandemonium as so many people pushed their way away from the national mall. Capitol Police shouted instructions, their red-and-blue car lights strobing up and down the normally-sleepy streets.
The frenetic hum of activity and the popping of firecrackers and fireworks continued tirelessly into the night, a different type of street-song lullaby in the city I've called home for the past five weeks.
James, Abby, and I walked home quietly, surrounded by pandemonium as so many people pushed their way away from the national mall. Capitol Police shouted instructions, their red-and-blue car lights strobing up and down the normally-sleepy streets.
The frenetic hum of activity and the popping of firecrackers and fireworks continued tirelessly into the night, a different type of street-song lullaby in the city I've called home for the past five weeks.
Blessings,
Clarice
Clarice