the thin line between optimism and delusion…

Charleston is the biggest city I’ve ever lived in, besides the summer I spent in Rome, Italy (I also spent a summer in Rome, Georgia, but that is entirely beside the point). When I go home to Augusta, I am impressed by the breadth of the sidewalks and the dampness of the dirt, and the abundance of organic material. It makes me realize that there are not a ton of trees in charleston, shade and yards are scarce, and the sidewalks are narrow. It makes me feel like Charleston is a city, a real city!

Right now, I’m drinking a glass of red wine, a Tempranillo, at the Sofitel in downtown DC, waiting for Bizzy to get off work. I’m reading a copy of High Fidelity that I swiped from Bizzy’s house (I accidentally left my nook at home, buried somewhere in my covers). I went to lunch with Cybil, and all in all, this visit has capped off a month of excellent friend contact and quality time.

My plan was to go to New York tomorrow via bus, and watch Libby run in the New York marathon. Hurricane Sandy (superstorm sandy? Dr. Sandy? Professor Sandy? Judge Sandy? Dean Sandy?) has interrupted these plans.

I called US airways to request a rebooking under the travel advisory on Wednesday, as Laguardia was indefinitely closed, and traveling to New York seemed ill advised. I wanted to fly home Sunday from DCA. They said they would be happy to change my return flight for $175. This seemed ridiculous to me.

On Heather’s advice, I took to twitter, and very nicely requested help from the US airlines twitter people. They were unable to rebook me completely, but my original Monday flight from LGA to CHS had a layover in DC, and they were able to delete the first leg of my return trip, preserving my DCA>CHS flight. So, yay twitter! And yay for an extra long weekend in DC.

DC is a stark reminder that Charleston is less of a real city, and move of the movie set of a city. Charleston downtown is so compact, and quiet, and quaint. As a side note, apparently only Europeans stay at the Sofitel. I’m picking up fashion trends from the European teenagers. Braids and big neck scarves, leather jackets and fur cuffs.

Last night, we went to the drag queen race in DuPont circle. It was amazing. This bar has the perfect pitched conversational murmur, in a dim lit red and stained wood setting. Outside, the overcast sky and the wind gusts down the streets shake the trees, and the huddled figures with scarfs and mittens, boots and long jackets, bring on an element of late fall, November, and the cusp of winter that is not yet available in my southern coastal movie set.

Libby will still be running on Sunday – I wish I could be there, and I’m so proud of her training and dedication and fundraising.

I hope you all have a spectacular weekend full of ethnic food, old friends, cozy dark bars, an international community, drag queens, roof tops, bodegas, craft beer, red blends, sweaters, leather jackets, deep conversations about life and love, tall boots, hot coffee, yoga, falling leaves, and good music (with soul! With feeling! With funk! Chasing that old time feeling). I think that is enough for one weekend.

XOXO

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