Some people doubt the virtues of the LA freeway system. (Yes, it does look complicated.) Stop griping. In LA, when it says, for instance, "Harbor Freeway" and there is an arrow pointing down, it means that if you stay in the lane directly below the arrow, you will end up on the Harbor Freeway. Not so in the East. Here, the arrow pointing down means, "If you continue on this road, there will eventually be an exit, either on your left or your right, that will eventually lead to the place on this sign. It may or may not be a continuation of the lane you are in. But keep driving straight." Also, the freeways in LA are substantial: they go at least a few miles and end up at a Real Destination with Clearly Marked Intersections and Exits. The freeways here sort of...get you there...indirectly...they sort of start and end randomly... The signs are in a hard-to-read light-brown-and-white, the typeface is small and condensed, and the signs aren't posted nearly as often as they ought to be. Now, I don't mind the driving here and I have pretty much gotten the hang of My Neighborhood and downtown. You get used to it. But Lisa and I think that as Americans migrated West, they gradually worked out the freeway kinks that are evident in Eastern freeway systems. (This morning my "30 minute" drive to church turned into an hour. I got lost about 6 time and made about 5 concentric circles around Arlington. And I'm a decent driver. I can follow directions, at least.) Again I say to you Westerners: appreciate what you have.
Restaurant Week! The Italians are a beautiful people, and I have three evidences: lobster ravioli, cannoli, and cappucino that is half foam. And the others in the group had risotto di frutti mare (risotto is pure culinary brilliance, in my opinion) and fried calimari. In heaven, chefs are from the Mediterranean. They might even all be Italian.
Our small, tight group of four hardworking interns (ok, three interns and a hardworking fellow) is about to disintegrate as Lisa leaves us to go pursue studies back at university (She'd rather attend classes than help us change the world! Psh.) Loay is also leaving, for Egypt or something. They think Rami and I can survive without them! We'll just see about that. I have never, ever in my life met someone who can swill coffee the way that Loay can. He's the true Mr. Coffee. And none of the sissy, sugary, foamy stuff either: straight, black. (Foam is my favorite part of the coffee experience!) He is trying to cut back - yes, cut back - to 8 cups a day. From 16. It's superhuman, I tell you.
The National Gallery of Art has a magnificent exhibit of Middle Eastern art. Go! It's free! And it's absolutely fascinating. Lisa and I were in awe of the pieces they had. I remembered why I majored in history, and I add to my Resolutions: Go to all the free museums in DC, every week. (Well, I can't manage ALL of them in one week, but you know what I mean.)
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