In addition to stumbling upon Fiesta DC, we intentionally went to D.C. Brewfest this weekend.
The festival was at the Bullpen, a venue near Nationals Park. It was a good time because we were with friends, but I don’t think any of us will go again next year — an “unlimited beer tasting” special isn’t worth it when the lines are 30 minutes long.
We stumbled upon a cultural festival this weekend while walking the dogs along the National Mall.
The festival is Fiesta DC — a Latino festival which features a parade of people dressed in the traditional costumes of various countries. We haven’t attempted to keep up with all of the events going on the National Mall and the Capital One Arena, so everyday is a surprise.
Ingrid, the labradoodle, is on high-alert during our evening dog walks now. She’s not worried about potential muggers or prowlers, but instead focused on hunting rats.
One unexpected challenge of walking the dogs in Chinatown is the massive rat population in our neighborhood. The parks are filled with rat burrows and the prancing creatures are a big distraction for Ingrid.
I first realized that D.C. has a rat problem one night when we decided to take a shortcut through an alleyway behind several restaurants near Logan Circle. The alleyway was crawling with rodents that were completely unfazed by our presence. The rats darted from corners and swung from trashcans.
It was the wrong type of party to be at.
I got out of the office around 10 p.m. after an all-day meeting to find a tempest outside. I was completely soaked by the time that I got home — so much so that our front desk attendant refused to give me a package until I went upstairs and put on some dry clothes.
The rain continued throughout the weekend, but that did not stop us from going outside. We took an extended walk along the National Mall, wherein we and the dogs got drenched.
Afterward there was a meandering journey to find a lunch, where we got drenched again.
While walking the dogs through Chinatown and Judiciary Square this morning, I notice that someone trashed the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial. A large binder containing officer names is ripped apart and the pages blanket the southern part of the memorial.
I reflexively take out my phone to Instagram the petty vandalism, but I immediately realize that I should take some responsibility over my new neighborhood and just clean up the damn mess. The wind hasn’t picked up most of the pages yet, so it’s better for me to handle this rather than waiting for the Park Service to show up.
I tie up the dogs and get to work.
It’s LL.M. orientation week. Last year, I was in the audience listening to alumni give study and job search advice. This year, I am on the same stage talking to a new crop of students.
I don’t get through all of my rehearsed talking-points, but I do manage to avoid saying anything stupid or outrageous. I repeatedly cautioned the students that securing a job offer from an externship is completely dumb luck on my part. But I probably sound like a lottery winner explaining that buying Powerball tickets is foolish.
My best piece of advice is: “Remember that massive book of information that the career office gave you? Actually read that and follow the instructions.”
If just one student uses that advice, then the panel was worth it.
It is a small miracle that I am even on this train, because the scheduled departure time was only 15 minutes after I left my client’s office. However, I make it because the train is (predictably) delayed. This also happened the first time that I traveled to Philadelphia for work, so I figure that like the D.C. metro, other trains rarely run on time during rush hour.
The train’s food cart is usually to be avoided, but it is late and I am starving. This is how $8 sandwiches get sold.
I briefly chat with one of my coworkers who is working in the train’s cafe cart, and then join the food line.
When I get in line, one of the men ahead of me immediately turns around and stares.
Man: “Sorry, but …did you go to University of Miami?”
Me: “Why, yes. I did.”
Man: “…and you also go to Georgetown?”
Me: “I did. Just graduated with my LL.M.”
Man: “I knew it! I saw you on campus and thought it was you!”
Turns out the man lived in the Hecht dorms when I was a resident assistant, and is now a 1L at Georgetown University. Small world!
Having a balcony was one of the main wish-list items for my District apartment, and I was so thrilled to find an apartment with some outdoor space again (summer heat, be-damned!)
Apparently I am not the only one who enjoys balconies — a week after moving in, I wake up one morning to find pigeon crap everywhere.
We are finally settled into our apartment in Washington D.C. — the hoard of boxes is gone and all of the furniture is put together. Blessed be.
It’s Saturday, it’s muggy, and I am at a sketchy public auto auction house in an unfamiliar part of Washington D.C.
There’s a bizarre cast of characters, and (obviously) a ton of cars. An older gentleman is walking around with a cane, cursing because I couldn’t sell him my car.
What in the hell did I get myself into?
We are walking in the Logan Circle neighborhood when I spot of bunch of people gathered on the sidewalk staring at something. I look across the street to see a cab on fire!
There is a woman on my side of the street that is convinced that the cab will explode. She’s pacing up and down the sidewalk, hysterical, screaming at everyone to clear the area.
The taxi driver on the other hand seems completely unconcerned about any explosion — he’s standing right next to the burning car on his cellphone. He’s understandably pissed and completely ignoring the screamer.
Having a Holiday in the middle of the week was unusual. The office closed early on Tuesday, which really just meant that the support staff went home early — the associates stayed as late as usual.
After work, I went to drag queen bingo at Shaw’s Tavern with Michael, Brody and Krystal. The host gave out a ton of prizes — half the time the people next to the bingo winner would get a prize as well.
Despite the generous prizes, going to drag bingo after a 12-hour workday was a poor choice. I was exhausted and totally unprepared for the shitfaced rowdy crowd. I felt like running out of the place after bingo ended.
I was in better shape Wednesday morning when we regrouped for brunch at Oz Arlington. This was our first brunch in Arlington since moving to D.C., and I now realize why D.C. people think that Arlington is such a haul from the city.
I guess I’m spoiled with my $8 Uber rides already.
After a year of no pride parades, we decided that enjoying Washington D.C. pride wasn’t enough. One week after Capital Pride, we made the trek to Maryland for Baltimore Gay Pride.
This time there were no 100-year storms, just heat. It was a fun parade and a very different experience than D.C. pride.
Moving is always an irritating experience for me because I have to confront all of my past bad purchases. However, this move was easier than most.
We were adults and hired movers. Getting out of the Virginia apartment did take a while however because of the sheer size of the building (long hallways, etc.) and the perpetual weekend traffic jam on the bridges connecting Virginia to Washington D.C.
Washington D.C. / Capital Gay Pride was last week. It was our first gay pride in over a year because we moved to D.C. last August, which is after Capitol Pride but before Dallas Pride.
D.C. Pride was alright — the parade seemed to go on for hours and the bars weren’t that much busier than a typical weekend.
We didn’t have the energy for the special parties, so we stuck to the parade and a few of the usual bars (which isn’t the worst way to do pride.)
A float at the DC Pride Parade.
I enter the lobby to wait for my Uber and realize that the street in front of the office is completely blocked off by police. The blockade extends down the block, which is pretty odd for a random weekday. Did someone get run over?
Turns out that the street closures are because the local hockey team is in the Stanley Cup playoffs.
We went to some hockey games in Dallas, but I obviously don’t follow the sport. I can’t even properly feign interest — this weekend, I politely asked someone if they were at a Stanley Cup watch party and Michael whispered in my ear, “He’s wearing a BASEBALL t-shirt!”
Sunday’s Baltimore brunch trip turned out to be unexpectedly hazardous.
I was aware of the threat of afternoon showers when I left for Baltimore, but I didn’t think much of it. Washington has been a soggy mess for the past two weeks — a few more drops can’t hurt, right?
Well, we could see the storm coming from the brunch patio, and things got bad pretty quickly.
It’s shortly after 3 a.m. and I’m walking across D.C. in a black suit carrying two narrow duffle bags.
I am prepared to 1) get mugged, or 2) explain to a police officer that I’m not a hitman, but rather a tax lawyer headed to the Supreme Court.
The duffle bags contain branded folded chairs from my law firm. I am on my way to a hotel to meet an associate lawyer who flew in from one of our other offices.
I make it to the hotel without getting mugged or stopped by a cop.
The associate is outside of the hotel with a woman from a competing law firm in New York. Introductions are made and we then have the most ridiculous time getting a cab – the three taxis in front of the hotel are not interested in driving us only 2 miles to court. They would rather wait for a more lucrative fare to a far flung airport.
It’s about 4 a.m. and there are already dozens of people camped out in line.
Professional line-standers in front of the Supreme Court.
The lines in front of the Supreme Court before the Wayfair v. South Dakota oral arguments.
The case that attracted this odd mix of tax lawyers, tourists, and professional line-standers is South Dakota v. Wayfair. This is the first major state and local tax (SALT) case to reach the Supreme Court in about 25 years and my SALT professors have been buzzing about the case ever since my first week at Georgetown’s tax LL.M. program.
In August, I never imagined that I would actually be present at such an important Supreme Court oral argument. (The timing at the end of the semester is terrible.) And yet here I am, in the middle of the night among new coworkers.
The year has gone by quickly partly because of my workload and the insane amount of things to do in Washington D.C.
My weekdays are spent at school, the office, and various coffee shops around town. The weekends are mostly spent skipping between D.C. and Virginia, with lots of dog park time.
Spring has also arrived (after a brief snow storm) so the city is full of cherry blossoms and tourists again. This is a fabulous way to end the school year.
Cherry Blossoms at night in Arlington, VA.
Pigeons swarming the National Mall at Washington D.C.
My job search in Washington D.C. was marked by mornings at a coffee shop in Chinatown.
I am barely in town a week when I first visit Compass Coffee on F Street. It’s August, muggy, and I am already sweating in the suit that I bought the day before.
Orientation hasn’t even started for the Georgetown LL.M. program, but I am already interviewing for externships. The law firm is in Chinatown, so I decide to metro to the area early and camp-out at a coffee shop. That way, I’ll be on-time and avoid the crush of rush-hour metro traffic.