Celebrating The Fish

I've been feeling 'meh' lately, lonely, disconnected from people, frazzled, a little over-programmed.  My life has become very structured.  A full work-day, then time at the gym five days a week. I return home, cook, eat later than I would like (around 9:30pm), write something, anything, sleep, repeat.  Through this I've been planning a wedding, force-feeding agents one novel, researching another.  

It's getting to be a bit much.  I miss people.  I miss lounging.  Sleeping.  I'm re-evaluating.  Everything.

A few weeks ago, I decided I would plan a short trip to DC to rejoin the living and visit my friend Rebecca (better known as Becky.  Sometimes known as the Fish.)

She expects a blog post out of it.  As she should. One of the first and most dedicated readers of this blog, she deserves one.

We biked through Rock Creek Park. (You didn't expect me to go on a trip and not take a photo of the trees, did you?)

We listened to live jazz.

And fell in love with a giant teddy bear singer named TQ.

She cooked Indian food.

Then put together a puzzle while I organized the pieces by color. Puzzles are, uh, not my strong suit.

As we killed a bottle of wine, my brain in a fuzz, I remembered something random.

"Once you told me you loved Bette Midler and then we listened to her albums on repeat. This is when I knew I adored you."

"Tell everybody that," she requested.

So I am.  

The Library of Congress

This weekend Tyler and I took a trip to Washington D.C. to visit our friend Becky and explore the city. I've made my love for libraries very clear, so when Tyler suggested we visit The Library of Congress, which boasts the largest collection of books in the world, I was really excited about it.

The library is exquisite, certainly one of the most elaborate libraries I have ever seen and, though we missed the formal tour, we wandered around looking at the beautiful architecture, Thomas Jefferson's impressive collection enclosed in glass, and the gift shop.

I was a little disappointed to learn that I could not enter the reading room or look at any books without going through a formal process to do so. Since you can't take any books out of the library (that is their policy for cardholders) I don't see any reason why you can't go exploring through their books at will. Lord knows that the security checkpoints at every possible exit would prosecute me with a beating if I dared take something away. So, why not let me wander?

I know there are practical reasons for this. I mean, the people in the main reading hall don't want tourists like me roaming around while they research. However, I tend to like the idea that I can walk into a library, as a cardholder or not, and, within reason, do whatever I like. At The Library of Congress, which is the mecca of libraries, a symbol of the institution of libraries, if you will, you are not allowed to touch a thing. You must look through glass at people reading, which is very stodgy and stuffy and made it seem like getting to their collection was a privilege rather than a right. And that is not what libraries mean to me. You walk in. You read. End of story. I have never been to a library in my life that didn't allow me to do just that, so this was surprising.

Despite my disappointment, I had fun at the library and I recommend going there to see how lovely it is. I liked the various quotes they had below the ceiling tiles. The true university of these days is a collection of books.

I liked their Christmas tree, which upon closer inspection was a tree of books.

I liked their gift shop which had $2 books and Jane Austen action figures (with writing desk and quill pen!)


And I learned that, one of my literary heroes, Charlotte Bronte apparently looked like a transvestite. I mean, seriously? What an unflattering portrait...