It’s felt like spring in Washington D.C. for a while now. We’ve had warm temperatures, cherry blossoms, and green grass.
Maybe winter in D.C. isn’t so bad after all…
It’s felt like spring in Washington D.C. for a while now. We’ve had warm temperatures, cherry blossoms, and green grass.
Maybe winter in D.C. isn’t so bad after all…
I was in an Uber ride through an unfamiliar part of Washington D.C. one evening when I saw a massive dome in the distance. It definitely wasn’t the U.S. Capitol building or the National Cathedral, and I couldn’t think of any other landmark that was so immense.
A week later, I decided to explore and made my way to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. This mouthful of a monument is apparently the largest Catholic Church in the U.S. and the second-largest in North America after the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.
One of our favorite gay bars in D.C. recently created a bizarre public relations nightmare for itself. Here’s some backstory and a rundown of what happened.
Backstory: Uproar Lounge & Restaurant is a gay bar in D.C.’s U-Street neighborhood. Uproar has a large rooftop and hosts a weekly all-you-can-drink beer bust on Sundays. There’s typically free food and a live DJ at the event. It can get pretty rowdy, but it’s a fun time.
This weekend, Uproar announced a new “dress code” via Facebook. The bar’s post was poorly-written, but seemed to ban flag football t-shirts during the Sunday beer bust. It also failed to give a clear reason for the rule, which left everyone to speculate in the comments.
I am at a rooftop bar on U-Street when one of our friends introduces us to his ex, Jack. We have the obligatory “I hate asking what people do, but…” exchange, and then Jack excitedly tells us about how much U-Street has changed over the years.
Jack: “It has really gentrified. You know, the only gay bar around here was Nellies – can you imagine? I bought my place around the corner from here 10 years ago and the area was rough.”
Me: “So I’ve heard.”
Jack: “I love how much stuff we have here now. What a remarkable change! You know, if you stay in D.C. you should really buy. It was one of the best decisions that I’ve ever made!”
We talk about how expensive real estate is in D.C. (it’s ridiculous.) Jack says that there are still many “up-and-coming” neighborhoods, and rattles off some names that I have never heard of.
I then tell Jack the story of my coworker from Dallas who bought a house in an “up-and-coming” neighborhood that never gentrified, so he just lives in the hood and has to ward off stray dogs and drug dealers from his property.
Jack: “Unlike Dallas, The District has a limited amount of space. The gentrification will happen. Plus, the neighborhoods are pretty safe, although I did get held up at gunpoint by my place last year…”
Everyone in our group exchanges horrified looks as Jack launches into his “when I got pistol-whipped in front of my townhome” story.
We explored Southwest Washington D.C. for the first time this weekend and came across this funky multicolored church.
The former Baptist church is now Blind Whino, a nonprofit art gallery and performance venue. It was free to look around, and there were several cool art installations.
The garden is in a building next to the U.S. Capitol and doesn’t charge admission, so I took a quick tour of the place earlier this week.
Although the U.S. Botanic Garden isn’t as beautiful or impressive as the Dallas World Aquarium, it was still a pleasant visit. The entire time I kept thinking, “My grandmother would love this place.”
We braved the rain for dog walks, bowling, happy hour, and of course, study spots. The rain also coincided with a nice warm-up, which made things much more comfortable, albeit a little soggy.
After six months in Washington D.C., I’ve made it to most of the gay bars in town. One of my favorite spots so far is TRADE bar in the Logan Circle neighborhood.
TRADE is a gay hipster bar that has a daily happy hour (until 10 p.m.) and plenty of drag events. The decorations are also insane and change fairly often. TRADE is usually cover-free, even when there’s an event going on — which means that it can get insanely packed.
As an aside — one of my problems with many straight D.C. bars is that they tend to be in narrow former-rowhouses and most places don’t enforce fire code capacity limits. The moshpit bar experience isn’t for me. TRADE is one of those rare places that will actually start a line when it gets too busy, so it feels less hazardous than your typical D.C. bar.
A drag performance at TRADE bar in Washington D.C.’s Logan neighborhood.
A drag queen bartender at TRADE bar in Washington D.C.
A RuPaul’s Drag Race-inspired sign at TRADE bar in Washington D.C.
I recently made a second trip to the U.S. Capitol Building. The Capitol museum exhibits were fascinating because I didn’t know how dramatically the Capitol Hill campus changed over the years.
Apparently the iconic D.C. row houses we see today were not as common as the wooden flophouses that used to dominate the city. The clearance efforts remind me a lot of the Minneapolis skid row documentary from a few years ago — gentrification before it had a name?
After meandering through the exhibits, I followed the tunnel to the Library of Congress, which was quite the surprise.
One of the most interesting things about living in D.C. is that there are so many young people with advanced degrees and white collar professionals from all over the world. (The diversity of the city is also a refreshing change.)
However something curious happens almost every time that I find myself at a D.C. party or social event – I get “the D.C. disclaimer” – which is some variation of:
“I hate how people in D.C. always ask, ‘what do you do?’ People here are so concerned about networking and they just want to know what you can do for them and their careers. It’s obnoxious and I don’t want to be one of those people…”
And then the person proceeds to ask me what I do.
Michael’s shirt didn’t survive the bowling alley food on Sunday, so we made our way to Union Station after our league finished. We found a suitable (and cheap) replacement shirt at Uniqlo, and then decided to stop at McDonald’s because apparently our diet resolutions don’t apply on weekends.
The Union Station McDonald’s was an unexpectedly strange experience because Kellyanne Conway and her son were sitting at the table next to us.
After slogging my way through winter break, starting the semester feels like reaching the end of one of those airport moving walkways before you’re ready.
My classmates and I are beginning the semester in a distracted state — most of us are already in first-and-second round interviews for after-graduation jobs. While this is a wonderful position for us to be in, it is very time-consuming to prep for interviews (and fret about callbacks.)
My winter break ended with a cold snap and the dogs had two very different reactions.
Ingrid, the labradoodle, thinks that we are in a winter wonderland. The cold doesn’t bother Ingrid and she is happy to spend her time in the dog park even with a ridiculous wind chill.
It’s the afternoon of New Year’s Eve and I am among a group of tourists standing near the front entrance of the Washington National Cathedral.
We ignore the Neo-Gothic architecture, altars and stained glass because everyone is transfixed on the bookish tour guide. The middle aged woman who greeted everyone nicely a few minutes ago is now glaring up at the second floor balcony above the cathedral entrance.
“Excuse me,” the guide says, barely below a shout. “Get down from there now. NO — that floor is closed. You need to get down here NOW.”
She repeats herself several times. A tourist in a suit tries to help the guide with awkward hand motions to the second-floor trespassers. I can’t see who is on the balcony but it is obvious that they are lingering to take pictures and the tour guide was having none of it.
“Elevator access is shut down to that floor,” the tour guide says to the nearby suited man. “I don’t understand how they got up there or why it’s not clear to them that the second floor is closed!”
“People are just stupid I guess,” he says in a thick Italian accent.
I quickly turn to the statue of George Washington to avoid laughing.
A statue of George Washington at the Washington National Cathedral.
The front entrance of the Washington National Cathedral, near Georgetown.
Lamps and the vaulted ceiling at the Washington National Cathedral.
Minor tourist drama aside, the trip to the cathedral was a pleasant way to end the year. It was also the last trek out that I would make that day.
It became increasingly clear that I was staying in for New Year’s Eve when I still didn’t have any plans by 9 p.m.
Finals ended about two weeks ago. I wish that I could report that my post-finals life has been full of vigorous exercise, rejuvenating relaxation, and quiet progress on my tax articles – but that is not how things have worked out so far.
My life is highly structured during the semester: Between classes, research obligations and my externship, my schedule is packed from 6:00 a.m. to 10 p.m. most weekdays. Weekends are for long dog walks, brunch, and sightseeing in Washington D.C. (Oh, and more studying.)
One of the strangest things about taking the Texas bar exam this summer was that we couldn’t have any liquid whatsoever in the exam room. This was fine for the first half-day, but felt like a strangely cruel rule during the following 8-hour days of the exam.
No coffee?
Not even water?
Wasn’t this bad enough?
On the second day of the exam, a test-taker sitting next to me explained the lore around the “no beverages” rule: apparently one year someone spilled a drink on their neighbor’s computer, frying it, and condemning that student to hand-writing the rest of the exam. I was mortified but quickly forgot about that anecdote when we restarted the test.
I was fortunate enough to have a few “Friendsgiving” offers, but I spent the break tied to my computer so I could finish prepping for finals.
They warned us during orientation that the LL.M. program goes really quick — and they were right. My externship and classes have already ended and finals start Tuesday.
We decided to walk the dogs along the National Mall this weekend. It was Veterans’ Day, so the monuments were packed with all sorts of tourists and servicemen.
As we made our way through the crowds of veterans and tour buses, we heard the thump thump of house music. It seemed like an unusual choice for a Veterans’ Day celebration, so we decided to drift towards the beat.
First we saw a kickball team associated with Cobalt, a local gay bar. But the music was actually coming from a massive dragon-shaped DJ stage behind the kickball game. The DJs were hosting a random women’s dance party in front of the Washington Monument.
A dance party at Decorated helmets at Catharsis on the Mall in Washington. D.C. (right in front of the Washington Monument.)
A school bus-turned dragon at Catharsis on the Mall in Washington. D.C.
Catharsis on the Mall is a burning-man-inspired festival that’s held every year on the National Mall. In addition to the dance party, there was yoga, a panel discussion, and several lounges throughout the area which looked like psychedelic Dothraki tents.
In addition to brunch, we explored some of the neighborhoods and made it to the Baltimore Eagle.
Brunch was at a place called Little Havana, which is right on the harbor. They had a bottomless mimosa special and even brought the mimosas out with ice (which is amazing.)
The food was good, although the amount of dogs on the patio was a little distracting. In particular, there was this dog that completely flipped out anytime it would see another animal. I’m surprised that its owner wasn’t kicked out.
Tuesday is a very busy bar night in Dallas’ gayborhood, but that is not the case in D.C. — apparently people are more into happy hour here.
We had a rare Tuesday night out yesterday with our first drag queen High Heel Race. I started hearing about this event almost immediately after arriving in town, and hated that it was on a random school night. However, I felt obligated to go because the race was billed as the equivalent of Dallas’ Halloween Block Party.
The good news is that the event did not disappoint.
The crowd gathering at a restaurant waiting for the Washington D.C. High Heel Race.
Drag queens at the Washington D.C. High Heel Race.