Vote your heart out, America

But only vote once. Otherwise it's illegal. 

Before you stop reading, let me say that this post is not to tell you whom to vote for in this year's election. That's your decision. 

Besides, if you are reading this post, then there is a 99% chance you are a member of my family or a friend and so you probably already know whom I'm voting for anyways. I'm not very shy about that. In fact, it's reeeeally hard for me not to turn this into a partisan post but, after much deliberation, I've decided not to. Instead, let's stay positive. Voting is awesome, you guys. 

And, to make to sure I stay on task, I've enlisted the help of official NC Meets DC Voting Spokesperson, Baby Charlie.

One of the first things I did when I moved to DC was make sure I changed my voter registration. I did this in April because I wanted there to be no issues when election season rolled around. 

I suppose I can call myself a habitual voter as I make it a point to vote in every election - even in non-presidential years. I grew up in a family of voters and was excited to finally turn 18 and get to officially cast a ballot. (Although, the "kids voting" table always had crayons for coloring. I miss that.)

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

I'm writing this as I watch the 2nd Presidential Debate so I figure there is no better time to post about something I did that was very Presidential. 

This past weekend, my friend Claire and I went to the President's house. Well, actually, we went to the President's front yard. And driveway. 

It was a beautiful fall day and Claire had tickets to the White House Garden Tour which opens the grounds and gardens of the First Residence to nosy, patriotic folks like us. 

Now you should know that this was not my first time at The White House. In fact, I've been in The White House - in the Oval Office, no less! Perhaps you've heard of a man named President William Jefferson Clinton? Not to be a name dropper but...hey...oh wait, let me pick that up off the floor because I definitely dropped it. 

I would like to tell you that I had the opportunity to shake President Bill Clinton's hand. 

I'd like to...but I can't.

Because I didn't.

Because he had pink eye. 

Seriously. How's that for presidential? Not quite what you expect.

My family and I had the honor of meeting President Clinton in the Oval Office when I was about 8 years old.  We got to take a picture with him - pink eye and all. I wish I had the picture to prove it but they never sent it to us. I find that especially surprising because I specifically told President Clinton that I needed that picture within a few weeks because I had to write a report in order to get an "educational absence" from school. I made sure he knew I was on a deadline.  

I could kick myself now because I don't remember much about that visit other than the pink eye. That's the kind of stuff an eight-year-old remembers. 

Cut back to the present. 

My Card Collection (and a few tangents)

Well, there's no turning back now. I'm officially a card carrying DC resident. I'm not referring to my DC drivers license or my voter registration card*. I'm talking the cards that really matter. The cards that show you are not only a "resident" of a city but that you live there, like, really live there. 

Cards like these:

*Tangent alert: If you aren't registered to vote. Then, DO IT. A voter registration card is one of the MOST important cards. Seriously. You can register here.  

As a DC resident, I've acquired a very special card that means I'm now trusted to borrow (and return) books. In fact, I've already racked up a fine. How about that for fully committing to residency - I'm an official monetary donor to the DC Public Library system! You're welcome. 

The first books checked out on my new card? The Litigators by John Grisham and South of Broad by Pat Conroy (Only because I've already read all the books by Mark de Castrique and Melissa de Castrique Thomson)

Summer Scrapbook

Last Monday was Labor Day which apparently is supposed to symbolize the end of Summer. I, for one, think the first day of Fall should signify the end of Summer but, what do I know? I still wear white after Labor Day so I'm clearly not trustworthy. I'm an anarchist. Until I no longer melt my face off on the Metro, I'm going to go ahead and say that it is still summer. 

Sadly, summer doesn't really mean as much when you aren't in school. It took me a while to catch on to the fact that summer is just another - albeit hotter- season when you have a job. I remember, in my first year out of school, suddenly coming to the realization that, not only do I have to work all summer, but I can take vacations any time during the year. That was hard to wrap my head around. 

Nonetheless, we all still have an affinity for summer, probably because we spent the first 21 years of our lives thinking it was a big deal. Or, maybe you have a beach house? I think a beach house would add more meaning to summer. If you want to invite me to your beach house, I'd be willing to test out that theory for the sake of this blog. 

I wish I could go back to the days when we went to the pool all day and my biggest concern was how much more time we had to do underwater handstands before they blew the whistle for the dreaded, awful, every-kids-nemesis adult swim. Such an ageist ritual. Those 15 minutes always felt like an hour. I used to get mad because the adults would get in there and just walk around or swim super slowly - what a waste! I would be forced to go to the concession stand and kill time eating a microwaveable pizza and a popsicle. I guess the chewy pizza crust and sugary water were the consolation  prizes of adult swim. 

Those were the days. 

Despite my nostalgic rant on ageist swim club practices, I have to admit that the present summer has been pretty awesome. In honor of this so-called "end of Summer" I thought I'd take a pictorial look back on my first summer in DC. Some of these photos you've already seen. Some of them you haven't. Mainly this post is just a reason to use the PicFrame app that Catty told me would be well worth the 99 cent charge to buy it. Who doesn't love a photo collage? If you answered that rhetorical question with, "me" then I suggest you read no further. (And possibly, re-evaluate our friendship. I just don't know how this can work out.) 

Happy Post-Summer, Pre-Fall! 

Baby Charlie 

Clearly the highlight of the summer. I'm pretty obsessed with that little monkey butt. And, I use that term endearingly. My favorite photo is the one in the bottom left corner where he looks adoringly at my sister with his hands tucked under his chin. I think he's actually just begging for milk. Already working that cuteness to his advantage. We're all in big trouble.