On July 31st, 2006, Luke and I boarded a red-eye American Airlines 757 at LAX bound for Dulles, coming back from my friend Michele‘s wedding in Santa Barbara. We had been home in the states for about two months…back from two years in the Peace Corps…still adjusting to life here and Thailand still at the front of our minds. We had moved to DC at the beginning of July and stayed at a friend’s wonderful 1-bedroom in Capitol Hill. But that was a short term stay–and the day before we left for Los Angeles, we moved all of our possessions–and there really wasn’t much–to our new apartment on W Street in Glover Park.
Everything was moved before we left, but we hadn’t moved in. In my logistical brilliance, I planned it so we’d move everything in before LA, then head out for the trip, then return and drive right up to our new apartment. I vividly remember Luke and I getting off the plane–bleary eyed from a red eye–not accustomed to those transforming buses that take you around Dulles–getting into our then-brand-spanking-new Kia and driving to our new apartment.
It was 7am when we got there. I couldn’t get the key to work. It was very hot. Our stuff was everywhere. We didn’t have a couch or a table or a chair or cable or a phone or silverware or a shower curtain. I didn’t know where to take the trash. Luke didn’t know how to get to work. It was really hot. I passed out on the floor (the bed was delivered later that day) and thought–“My god. Where am I?”
But that was two years ago. A lot changed in two years. Glover Park didn’t seem so far away after a while. We got a shower curtain. We realized how wonderful the porch was. I discovered a bus where I always got a seat that took me right to work. I started writing this blog. Luke became a Rock Creek Parkway master. We found a gym. I found the best way to get to the beltway (the Clara Barton!). I became obsessed with edamame. Luke took a razor and sliced through years worth of paint so we could open the windows. Friends with crock pots came over. We got a new coffee table and played trivial pursuit while eating pies. A tree fell on our Memorial Day BBQ. I stopped putting sugar in my coffee. Luke and I spent Sundays watching the McLaughlin Group and we both developed a crush on Pat Buchanan (Yeah. Weird. I know. I can’t explain it either.)
We decided to get married.
And I still spent hours on a porch, but this time, instead of water buffaloes meandering by, I watched boeings land at National.
And we got to know and love the district.
And now, of the two DC W’s we’re saying goodbye to this year, the W Street apartment is one that I’ll really miss.
Goodbye W. I’ve traded a porch for a patio, so look for more dispatches from the new haunt…The Shaw.