This was the first of the self-portraits (sad that it took us until Sunday to take it). Anyway, this is the only photo that’s out of order, but I felt it would be appropriate to start with a photo of Anne and me, as that is what the first two days of the trip were all about. This was taken just before we went in to see the most ridiculously political IMAX movie I have ever seen in my life. It was Sharks 3D. What I was expecting was blood and carnage. What I was expecting was a shark to scare the crap out of me as it came out of the screen to eat me. What I did not expect was the political propaganda that poured forth from the speakers.

Don’t misjudge me, please. I love the ocean. I love sharks. I love diving with them (well, the different reef varieties…I have yet to see any other species while under the sea). It makes me sad that there are people who kill them for their fins, or teeth, or just because. I hate poachers and think they are cruel, horrible, greedy people. It makes me sad, when out diving, to see the damage people do to coral reefs. I hate that there are fewer and fewer places to dive that aren’t damaged. However, I am just not a believer in environmental propaganda, especially when I am paying to be ENTERTAINED.

Here are the lyrics to the worst song I have ever heard…in terms of annoyingness (although later on that day, in the restroom at Chili’s, I heard the Melissa Ethridge song…you know, the theme song to Al Gore’s movie, and if it weren’t for the fact that I actually do like her voice, it would definitely win…it’s a close call). Oh, and the words in italics, those are my thoughts/feelings.

Still Be Blue (which is how I felt listening to this song…blue, because someone thought this was a good idea)

Dark and light
All the shades of gray
Colors overbright (what the hell?)
We can make them fade away

If we respect the balance
of life upon the planet
The sea will still be blue

Sail away to another place
You can feel the air
Feel the wind upon your face
The sea is far below you
It seems to still be blue

If we reject the balance
of life upon the planet
The predator becomes the
prey and so it goes (aren’t all predators prey to something?)
Everybody knows that
the sea will still be blue.

lyrics by Claudia Phillips

The lyrics are bad, but if you have a death wish, go ahead and combine them with the music. Vomilicious. And this is why non-profits need marketers. They could have made this message so much easier to swallow. Instead, it was like one of those disgusting horse pills that makes you think, “Wow, being sick/malnourished from lack of vitamins really isn’t that bad compared to this nastiness.” A spoon full of sugar…Mary Poppins taught some great life lessons. Lessons that Jean-Michel Cousteau might need repeated.

Moving on…

This is Georgetown. If I could afford to move here, I would have done it yesterday. I love the feeling of a city at night, but the quaintness of all of the town homes and gardens. I seriously peeped in windows. I remember doing this on my mission, in one town specifically. I was in Yverdon, Switzerland and there was a little alley we would walk through to get home and I could just see over the fence of this one home and into the back window. I don’t know what it is about looking into a window in the evening, when the lights are on, but I feel like I’m getting a little glimpse of a fantastic secret. Mind you, this is not in the Peeping Tom sense at all (I promise, I’m not like that). It’s just fun to get a glimpse into someone’s life. And I assure you, the town homes in Georgetown are a delight. I drove through this area last year, but it was during the day and I didn’t get out to walk around. We had a lovely time walking around, shopping at Paper Source, people watching and eating. Lots and lots of eating.

The streets of G-town were also the location where our high-speed chase took place. And by “our”, I mean, where we were caught in the middle of a high-speed chase. Anne thought her car was making funny noises, but I assured her it sounded to me like a helicopter. The sound got louder and louder…and then, there were sirens. Lots and lots of sirens. We pulled off to the right (why is that people in this state, Utah, often don’t know how to do that?) and were passed, first, by a big truck with a trailer, and then by cop car after cop car, until probably 20 had passed us. I’m not exaggerating. I’m not sure if they were chasing the truck, or if he was just an idiot who didn’t get over in time. In any case, cop cars started pouring in from different directions, as well. We were at one of those intersections with streets coming from more than four directions, so it was a bit more hectic than your average intersection.

It was after this that we realized that the helicopter we had heard was part of the chase, shining a large spotlight down into the area. Unfortunately, we never did find out what had happened. My sister asked if perhaps it was a police escort. I told her I thought not. I am pretty sure police escorts don’t involve choppers with spotlights or cop cars tearing around corners and coming in from a gazillion different angles. I could be wrong. Anyway, it added a little excitement to our Saturday night.

It was restaurant week in D.C., so we took advantage by eating at this delicious restaurant. The decor was amazing. Exactly the type of elements I hope to have in my fabulous loft and/or townhouse someday. It was oh so contemporary, but very warm and comfortable. And the food, well, it left nothing to be desired.

I know carrot cake may not be the dessert you think of when you think of a posh, contemporary restaurant serving a three course meal, but I assure you it was delectable. And there was something about eating such a homegrown dessert in such modern surroundings that I really enjoyed. Can you tell I love the eating experience?

Anne staged this little photo. It’s something I’m working on. Photo composition. It’s not one of my talents, but I think I’m starting to have a better eye for it.

The bed, after climbing into it, at hotel #2 in downtown D.C. They were gracious enough to find me a room with two double beds so that Anne and I could have a slumber party.

And the sightseeing we did on Sunday. This was the beginning. I love this photo, except that I think I could’ve composed it a bit better. I’m not sure I love the placement of the flowers, but I do love the colors and that the capitol is out of focus.

So, I like to take weird pictures…like this one of my reflection in the hand dryer in the ladies’ room in the botanical gardens. Thinking about it now, I realize how weird it must’ve looked to anyone watching me. Whatever. I’m weird. I’ve accepted it and moved on. I hope you will do the same.

The botanical gardens.

This is the art museum. I didn’t go in it on this trip (I spent hours there the last time I was in D.C.) but I loved the lines of the building from this angle, so I decided to take a picture. I really should crop the top corner, but it took forever to upload these pictures and I’m too tired to bother.

Anne taking a picture of the sculpture garden.

Self-portrait #2. We literally took this photo six times (that is only the number with my camera). I know what you’re thinking. “Six times and this is the one you post?” Yes. We couldn’t seem to get the capitol in the background ever, so…this was the one.

I love this sculpture. This was a new addition to my D.C. sites. I love how the light is illuminating the book in Einstein’s hand. I love that this is a full body shot and I don’t hate it.

The Washington, D.C. temple. We stopped by to leave a package for my old roommate who’s a missionary at the Visitor’s Center. She wasn’t there, but I’m glad I made the effort.

And the last self-portrait. Probably my least fav, but it needed to be included.

Ahh, the suite where the stress began. Thankfully I did have this wonderful room in which to be stressed out. This is the hotel just across from the corporate offices. This is the room where I stared at myself in the mirror for over an hour as I recited my presentation, watching my hand movements and my facial expressions to ensure that I wouldn’t look totally lame. This is the room where I donned that fabulous suit that made me feel like I could take on the world…or at least the executive committee of the company. This is the room where I watched “You’ve Got Mail” on HBO into the wee hours of the morning in an effort to fall asleep without getting stuck in my head, a movie that always makes me angry because I hate the final scene between Meg and Tom. Does he really have to say, “Don’t cry Shopgirl,*” and did they really have to do such a bad job with the sound editing? I mean, it doesn’t sound like they are in a park AT ALL. (I didn’t used to be such a movie snob…but then I met Sarah ;-), although I knew there was something off about the sound.)

This is also the room where I got a phone call from my dad at 3:45 am wondering where I was and if I was okay. I love that living at home doesn’t mean that my dad is totally involved in my life, especially because I often don’t see him to tell him what’s going on…and he doesn’t have the greatest memory. I also love that he was worried about me. Worried enough that when he realized I wasn’t home at 1:45 am on a Monday morning (it’s par for the course for me to get home super late (or early) on Fridays and Saturdays, but not Sundays), he decided he should probably try and get a hold of me. I love that, as I told him I was going back to sleep, he said, “Love you, punkin'”. Sure, it disrupted my sleep, but there’s nothing like a little love from Nev to help stress level decrease.

*Thanks, Jules, for reminding me about the worst part. “Shopgirl”. Gag!