Equality March: The Weekend Continued

I wasn't sure what to expect at the Equality March. I've never marched politically before. These pictures were taken by Celeste Lavin and Alex Guyton. From the metro, people streamed towards the meeting place in every imaginable t-shirt and rainbow bits of clothing. As we waited for members of our party to pee in Starbucks, I got more and more excited, as Kim cooly surveyed the surroundings. She does not tend towards bouncing up and down the same way I do.

There were so many people marching! It took a while to get moving, and for a while we were a giant pack. But after a bit the streets widened, and there was plenty of room to move about while marching. This space also allowed us to vary our pace, which brought us into contact with many different groups of people. We saw a group from West Virginia, one from Kentucky, a bunch of drag queens, and Dan Choi, an army Lt. who was just discharged from the military for publicly coming out. He was there with his partner and people cheered every time they saw him.
There were many, many homemade signs that made us clap or laugh. A sampling is pictured below.




This one says, "Jesus had 2 dads and he turned out fine," and was one of my favorites.
A sign that made everyone cheer and tear up was held by an interracial couple: "Our marriage was illegal too."


The cheering was one of the best parts. Different groups led cheers at different times, and Julia of our group led several as well. Cheering and chanting made the 2.3 mile walk move quickly, and boosted the energy. It gave me goosebumps to think of all of us, there together, with similar goals.
Some cheers:
"What do we want?" "Equality!" "When do we want it?" "Now!"

I said, Hey, ho
That homophobia's got to go (this had a great rhythm)

"Show me what democracy looks like!"
"This is what democracy looks like!"

Gay, straight, black, white
We deserve equal rights

Out of the closet and into the streets!

Obama, Obama,
Let Mama Marry Mama (I didn't hear this, but others did)

I'm really glad I went. We had good weather, and even got a little sunburned. I was happy to see many women, people of color, and people of diverse ages. Many allies as well as gay people. I think it was a successful turn out.

What a Weekend!

This was a weekend I will not soon forget. My camera went on the fritz on Saturday afternoon, so I will have to rely on others' photos, but I wanted to write about it now anyways.

Friday, October 9: After a very long commute home, I raced out the door to 6th and I Historic Synagogue. There was a Rick Recht service and a Jewish Transgendered speaker that I did not want to miss. It was part of a monthly event called "Sixth and the City," which has dinner and drinks, and tends to involve much awkward mingling. My plan was to just attend the service and talk and bolt out of there. But when I walked in, I saw people I knew! I met T and K at one party, enjoyed talking to both of them, and did not get their contact info. About 4 months later, I walked into another, unconnected party at Rowan's house, and there they were! Again, I had a great conversation with T, and left without contact info. And there they were at 6th and I!!! This time, I got their information. Being there with people I knew made a huge difference. Joy Ladin, the speaker, is a very skilled writer, and the piece she read to us was moving and well-written. She spoke about her experiences at the Wall in Jerusalem, first as a man with his children and wife, and then as a woman alone. It was less about the differences in the two sections of the Wall, and more about her journey as a person. We were all riveted. And then we had dinner at Joy Ladin's table. We stayed until 10:30 talking (with eachother). New friends?

Saturday, September 10: Im et al arrived around 3pm. Im, Kim, Kim's best friend Helene, and their other friend Su all drove down from NJ to sleep on my floor and attend the Equality March on Sunday. We departed my house after a short tour to hear Cleve Jones speak at Busboys and Poets. Cleve Jones is the founder of the AIDS Quilt, and has been a gay rights activist for about 35 years. I heard him speak at Smith, and we were all excited to hear what he had to say. As we walked toward the venue, it was clear that everyone else near us was going the same place we were. We all started smiling, realizing that people were actually here for the march!! Busboys and Poets was seriously crowded.
We could not even get inside, but instead joined dozens of other people in watching through the open walls. We actually had a great view, if tired legs and hungry bellies. The first speaker was Sherry Wolf, a socialist GLBT activist. She was fairly radical, but said many things I agreed with. The main idea I liked was the one that gay people go to work and come home like everyone else--we've got the same things on our plates as everyone else, and should have the same rights. Etc.
The best part was probably the energy of the crowd. When Sherry finished speaking, people inside the restaurant started chanting, "L-G-B-T! We demand equality!" Cleve Jones spoke only for a short time, and didn't say anything too profound. The funniest thing he said was, "How many of you have seen Milk? All I have to say about that film is, I was that hot!" In case you don't remember, he was the curly-haired young guy in the film with the big hipster glasses. Actually, he looks in that film remarkably like many hipster Smithies, despite the time-period and gender differences.

We met up with Kim and Helene's CDO friend Julia and headed back to Bethesda for dinner. Su was craving Asian food, and everyone else was freezing, hungry and had sore feet, so we headed to Rice Paddies Grill for inexpensive and filling pho. We spent the rest of the evening at Rock Bottom having drinks and snacks 7 Smithies, 1 boyfriend, and 3 of Kim's high school friends. It was good times all around and we were out waaaay past my bedtime. For once I felt like I was actually in my 20s, out with friends at a bar. Everyone bedded down for the night on the floor of the second bedroom in my apartment. It reminded me of when all of my cousins and I used to have a sleepover around Hanukkah.
I will write about the march later, with photos from other people's facebooks. Now I am off for coffee with Rowan.

Taste of Bethesda and Crafty Bastards

This post is woefully overdue.

Last Saturday, my mother's visit coincided with both the Taste of Bethesda and the Crafty Bastards, two events I have waited all year for. We started off at the Taste of Bethesda, where many of Bethesda's 200 restaurants set up booths and offer small bits of their menu in exchange for tickets. We skipped breakfast in favor of an early arrival, walking about 5 minutes from my house to the festival. I love large event set-up, so being out on this fine day, watching cooks and vendors arrange their tables and grill meats made me joyful.
We watched a 16-piece swing band do a sound check, admiring the cafe-like tables.
Jaleo, which, as you may recall, I have previously enjoyed, cooked a paella to feed 450 people. Mom and I checked back on its progress through the festival.
We found out that the heat is mostly in the center of the pan, so after something is cooked it is pushed to the side so it does not cook to death. Here they are making room for several gallons of mushrooms.
The rice is cooked directly in the pan, with the addition of much broth (mushroom broth, and I think chicken broth too. This was a chicken paella).
We sampled many different foods: shrimp shumai, a philadelphia roll, crab mac and cheese, chana masala, and a samosa.

When we were full, we headed to Crafty Bastards, an alternative arts and crafts fair in Adams Morgan. They have all sorts of funky crafts, many which are repurposed from other things:
These purses are old book covers. There was also jewelry made of nuts and bolts and clothing made of other clothing. Many of the booths had hand-made banner like this one:
Lots of screen printing (tshirts and posters), jewelry, items that look cool but have no use, and baby cloths. I ran into literally half a dozen people I know--5 Smithies, 1 Nice Jewish Girl, and Jason! We took a picture to prove to our mothers that we had actually seen eachother in Washington!
This donut was actually a floor cushion. I love Crafty Bastards.
Despite our large lunch at 11am, Mom and I found ourselves hungry, so I introduced her to the joy that is frozen-yogurt-that-tastes-like-yogurt. I'm sure this has another name, but my title is highly descriptive: it is frozen yogurt that does not try to taste like ice cream. It is cultured like yogurt. I tried the raspberry flavored with strawberries and little rice dough balls. Mom had plain with m&ms and strawberries. Totally hit the spot.

Sukkot, Yogurt, and More of those green plant balls

I'm at my kitchen table right now, after a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond that left me feeling less than enthusiastic about my home improvement plans (namely, buying an iron and some bowls). But, I am now happily eating whole-milk yogurt from the Blue Ridge Dairy, purchased at the Dupont Farmer's Market with honey from the Shenandoah Valley, purchased at the Manassas Farmer's Market. Local bliss. This has done much to improve my mood.

Monday, October 5: Miriam and I made plans to meet up after work. She had had a hellish day, so I gathered a small present for her, which I stashed in my purse so it would be a surprise.
Miriam was appropriately grateful.

The lovely vegetation gift did not accompany us to dinner at Nest, a cozy new restaurant off the beaten path in Bethesda. Relaxed atmosphere and a menu with many tempting choices. Afterwords, Miriam and I strolled in the fall night air, savoring the comfortable quiet that comes with knowing someone for about 13 years.

Tuesday, October 6: Work Monday and Tuesday was extremely busy. My phone never stopped ringing, and every time I got off the phone, I had a new message waiting. It's a different kind of productive on these types of days, measured more by the number of people who have gotten off the phone with their questions answered and feeling better about something than by letters written or emails sent. On Tuesday I also gave 2 presentations to the employees of the county landfill. I was pleased with the presentations, and got good questions. These questions brought up points I had missed, or things I forgot that most people don't know. I talk about flu so much that I sometimes forget what most people think of when they think of H1N1. I also got to take a tour of the landfill, which was really cool. The views from the top of the carefully-constructed mountain were quite scenic--trees and hills as far as the eye could see.

In the evening on Tuesday, I went to Sushi in the Sukkah, put on by the local Chabad women's group. The sukkah was decked out!
In addition to the artistically arranged food here (including kosher sushi from New York), we rolled our own sushi and discussed the connections between sushi and the holiday of Sukkot. Both involve wrapping. On Sukkot you wrap yourself in the sukkah, one of two mitzvot involving wrapping (our host N. cited the other one as being immersion in the mikvah, but I wonder about laying T'fillin or wrapping oneself in a tallis. Since it was a women's group and Chabad women do neither of these things, I kept my questions to myself). Also, the lulav and etrog bring together the "4 species" in one group, which you then shake in all directions (east, south, west, north, up, down--in that order) to show that G-d is everywhere. When rolling sushi, different foods--rice, avocado, fish, etc--are brought together. Soooo, not a super-intellectual comparison, but it works.
It was a fun evening, but I missed the "outside" feeling that most sukkahs have. This one, while spacious and well-lit, had canvas sides and tightly spaced bamboo skak (the roof, which must be made of natural materials and leave space to see the stars). The sukkahs in Rochester have corn-stalk roofs, and most have wooden sides. A very different feel. Even though I technically fulfilled the mitzvah of eating in the sukkah, I don't feel like I did.

Wednesday, October 7: I drove behind this truck on my way to work this morning and it made me smile back.
Work was fairly low key today, a welcome break. It certainly feels like fall in the office, as we have candy corn in our candy dish (everyone digs for the candy pumpkins), hand-picked apples at the ready, and gourd decorations.

Through Friday

I guess it's been a whole week since I last posted. There have been some changes in my life in the last week. Monday was Yom Kippur, which I did not feel as ready for as in years past. I managed to take from the day what I could, and finished it with a break fast with the Nice Jewish Girls. I got to chat with my friend Becca about life and curly hair. I was happy to see her before she left for Israel for a short trip. In taking pictures, we also re-created a certain pose taken while we were acting in a certain play named after a certain part of the female anatomy. I will not post that here, but suffice it to say that it is not the sign for "pizza."

The week at work was quite busy. There have been daily changes in dates for something important we are waiting for, and it has involved a lot of time on the phone. I spent several days calling school nurses and principals (not all private schools have nurses) and asking them how flu season was treating them. Saying the same thing to everyone who answered the phone (hi, this is Abby calling from the PW Health District. I wanted to speak to someone about H1N1 flu. Who would be a good person to talk to?) for a total of 54 schools got old after a while. And our office is finally clean again! I think we are all happier for it.

My living situation has changed, and I am living solo for the month of November in the same apartment. I am slowly redecorating and rearranging a bit to accomodate the reduction in furniture. In some ways, I feel like I am starting over.

This weekend, my mom came to visit! My dad was in Australia, so it was just us girls. We had a wonderful and very full weekend!! On Friday we went downtown in Bethesda to Mon Ami Gabi. Going out for dinner in that part of Bethesda on a weekend night feels glamorous to me, somehow. Maybe because I so often walk past other people dining there. The food was certainly something to talk about! Mom and I both had mussels in a white wine and cream sauce with onions. I love moules, and there is nothing better than sopping up that flavorful sauce with crusty baguette (or eating it with a spoon, for that matter). As a side, I had whipped cauliflower, which was fluffy, and probably made so delicious by some combination of cream, butter, cheese (maybe) and definitely some sort of animal fat (chicken stock? bacon fat?). I did not ask, just spooned it up with happy moans. I was too busy eating to photograph, but here is someone else's delectable photo of moules marinieres.

Anna and Abby

Today I had the chance to spend the day with my old friend Anna. Anna and I met in 1999 when I was living in DC on my dad's sabbatical. We went to the same school and were in the same advisory group. I don't remember exactly how we became friends, but I know that much of our early bonding came over introducing one another to our favorite musicals. She taught me about Sondheim; I introduced her to RENT. We realized that it had been almost exactly 10 years since we met, and the day's activities were fitting to that.

We started at the Dupont Circle Farmer's Market, where we both bought some gorgeous purple kale and extremely fresh ginger (with the shoots still attached!) My kale:
We had lunch in the sort-of-park that is Dupont Circle proper. Anna and I have looked very much alike at different points. At one point her hair was very curly and mine was really short. Now we are reversed. People always thought we were sisters.

In honor of our tenth anniversary of friendship, we paid homage to some important spots in our teenage years. After I moved back to Rochester, every time I visited Anna we would trek out to Dupont Circle for the afternoon. We would have lunch at WrapWorks, which no longer exists, and spend a long time scouring every inch of Lamda Rising. Back then it felt important, a time we could be ourselves and talk about the things we didn't want our parents to overhear. Today the store didn't hold as much appeal, the buttons not as funny, the books and cards more overtly sexual. Had the store changed or had we? Maybe we just don't need it like we once did.

We also paid a visit to Kramerbooks, a great bookstore, and resolved to send eachother book recommendations. We finished the day with a long sit in Cosi. We always stopped there as teenagers, when it was called XandO (did you say it zando? X and O? Who knew?), and had an Arctic Mocha, a sweet blended coffee drink. For Anna, drinking something with coffee in it was pure teenage rebellion. It was a long time (months? years?) before she would buy her own instead of sharing mine. Our drinks today (coffee for her, iced cappucino for me) struck me as somehow grown-up. Our conversation also was no longer about teachers and furtive crushes, but about our healthy relationships and jobs. I look at us and like who we have become.

National Book Festival

Today was the National Book Festival, put on by the Library of Congress and a bunch of sponsors. Held on the Mall, the festival draws many famous authors and huge crowds. They had a great line-up this year of both children's and adult authors, and so I carefully planned my day to see these men and women speak and read from their books.

My first author was Lois Lowry. She wrote Number the Stars, The Giver, and Anastasia Krupnik. Using a trick I learned last year, I squeezed into the side of the tent, and sat on the ground to the side of the stage. After a minute, I realized that I was sitting behind Mrs. Lowry as she waited to go onstage.

She spoke about her first picture book, which is based on a true story. She told us about the time when she learned that sometimes bending the truth made a better story. This account involved her six-year-old self pouring glue on her baby brother's hand, and a stranger asking her if he had been burned. "The helpful girl pushed the badly burned baby down the street" had a better ring to it, so she did not correct the stranger. She also answered questions, claiming before she called on anyone, "In case you were going to ask, Jonas is alive! I never thought that people would read him as dying at the end when I wrote it. That's why I wrote The Messenger." Many people clapped at that.
After that I made my way to the History and Biography tent to hear Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter, Anne Kidd Taylor, speak about their new memoir. Sue Monk Kidd wrote The Secret Life of Bees, a favorite of the Mother Daughter Bookclub. Today the two discussed the travel that inspired the memoir, and much about their relationship. Sue Monk Kidd read a quote by Lillian Carter (mother of Jimmy Carter) that made us all laugh: “Sometimes when I look at all my children, I say to myself, 'Lillian, you should have stayed a virgin.'” Although you can see Sue Monk Kidd in short black hair and her daughter in the red sweater, I wanted to show the size of the crowd in the tent. Every seat was filled, and this was the case for every author in every tent. Great turn-out this year.

I had a bit of time before the next author I wanted to see, so I strolled through some other tents. Some of the sponsors had tents set up just for kids. Here they could meet the Very Hungry Catepillar.
I headed for one of my favorite parts of the Festival: The Pavillion of the States. Each state choses a kids' or YA book to feature, and has a booth providing info about that book and their state. Some states have maps of the state and tourist info; others have bookmarks featuring the winners of their state book awards. You can obtain a special map of the US, and take it to each state for a stamp or a sticker. I did this both years and I was not the only adult to do so! The tent is organized by region of the US, so you have some idea of where you are. Among other things, I picked up a pin from Idaho in the shape of a potato, a poster of Emmylou Harris reading, and many great book ideas.
Mo Willems came next. He writes interactive and slightly irreverant pictures books like Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus and Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed. He used to be a stand-up comedian, and his performance attested to that. He had adults and kids alike laughing heartily. One the books he read to us is called Pigs Make Me Sneeze. He commented that it was a controversial title in light of recent news. Any reference to H1N1 flu automatically wins my favor! He also did a great reading of "Naked Mole Rat."
Here is a view of the festival from the steps of the Freer. You can see the tents, the Natural History Museum, and many, many umbrellas. It rained on and off (but increasingly on) throughout the afternoon.
The day ended with two authors dear to me. The first was Tim O'Brian. A Vietnam vet, he writes about the war in a style that blends truth and fiction, fantasy and fact, poetry and prose. Every time I hear his name, I think about Mr. Fox, my ninth grade English teacher, who taught us how to write. He too was a Vietnam vet, and he read us many passages from Tim O'Brian outloud. Every time he read, we got the feeling that Mr. Fox was sharing a little bit of his own experience with us. I have no idea if Mr. Fox and Tim O'Brian knew eachother, but it felt like they did. At the festival Tim O'Brian (on the right; the ASL interpreter is on the left) read a newly written letter to his first son, who is now six. The author is 62, and the letter was about not being around for all of his son's life. It was an emotional reading, both for us and him.
And to end the day, I went to see Judy Blume. She spent a few minutes talking about her childhood, but mostly wanted to answer our questions. Many, many of the questions were from children, and they didn't just reference her newer books, but all of the old favorites that so many people my age have read! It made me so happy that these dear books are still being discovered by young readers. There were many questions about Fudge, who it turns out was based off of her son Larry, who used to eat under the table like a dog and threw a lot of fits. When asked if she would ever write books about Fudge or Margaret (as in, Are You There G-d It's Me) as adults, she recoiled in horror, insisting that each will forever be 5 and 12, respectively.

Judy Blume is 72, but you would never know it to look at her. I've attached this press photo, taken in April or May, to show how amazing she looks.
I cannot even begin to describe the warmth and energy in the very full room, as it poured outside and the sky began to darken. This generation of women who had grown up with Judy Blume books and the younger generation currently loving her work sat glued to her every word, laughing and clapping when she encouraged us all to read banned books. We all left smiling.