September

It's beginning to feel crispy here, like autumn, and the previously cloudless summer skies are sporting wispy threads. It's nippy enough that you don't feel awkward ordering a hot chocolate at the cafe anymore, and the idea of a thick beef stew for dinner doesn't sound so overwhelming like it did in August. When I arrived in DC last January I was alone (mostly) and it was cold and wet and gray. Somehow the imminent cold, wet, gray doesn't seem as intimidating now that I know this city and the people. Now it's MY cold, wet, gray.

But it's not quite there yet. Yesterday afternoon as I was walking home from the Metro, I thought, "This really is too lovely a day to stay inside. I think I'll just keep walking!" So I did. It was a nice warmish clear day, just the sort of early September day that makes you want to sharpen a pencil and write something, and it was a nice long walk to Tryst, to whom I give most of my money because I can't resist their big, fat mugs filled with foamy goodness and daintily accessorized with two animal crackers. Plus, they have nifty art on the walls. Last night I was sinking into my old brocade chair in front of one of the more unusual art pieces when a group came over to admire it. I looked up to make sure I didn't trip them with my absurdly large purse and realized that they were speaking sign language. Then I realized that pretty much everyone in the whole cafe was speaking sign language. It was a little surreal for a moment, like I had missed the memo posted on the door, "SIGN LANGUAGE ONLY." But then I asked the guy next to me and he said they were having sort of a sign language club gathering + class of some sort using Tryst's wireless internet + looking at the art because one of their gals had contributed. And that is really cool.

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Thomas Friedman needs to stop writing op-eds that are in the form of a "Letter to (The People, The Media, World Leader, Minority Population) From (The People, The Media, World Leader, Minority Population.) I read Friedman regularly because he won me over with From Beirut to Jerusalem, but...is he being clever? Lazy? Smart-alecky? I just don't know.