So it hit 100 today, in weird temperature. It's quite apt that that's such a milestone; whilst no, the water isn't ACTUALLY at boiling point, it damn well feels like it. The humidity in the air makes everything prickly and sticky and burny, and the heat itself is... well. It's 100. Bloody boiling, innit.
But enough weather chat. After a pleasant long weekend, it's now back to work, or what passes for it. I've spent today in the library of congress again, this time in the manuscript room, where the restrictions are extreme and the room is boring but the staff are very friendly and respond to thanks with either a curt "yup" or a long, drawn out "mmhhhmm". I absolutely love this, once I get used to it. I have found absolutely nothing of use today but I did get to read lots of people's letters from the original, and at one point I found a guy's atlas from 1822 which was really ripped up but totally awesome (of particular interest to me: the Asia page has both Xinjiang and the entire Himalayas region subsumed into the "Chinese empire". Along with "Corea" and a really big chunk of Manchuria. On an unrelated note, it also labels the north of Canada as "New South Wales"...). there were also loads of memoirs from a chap called Herman Sawyer, who went deaf from cannonfire in 1813, got captured by a guy called Captain Falcon (lolz) in the great lakes and then spent the later years of his life writing out his letters and cutting out newspaper clippings that mention him as a war hero.
*24 hours later*
OK, I just said no to salsa so I can play Monkey Island, but I realise that I must complete this before I play Monkey Island or I will be forever a failure.
(Incidentally, my facebook profile is awash with the cries of a thousand people who think its a travesty that this opening is not in the remake:
I am one of them. Undoubtedly. This thing is nostalgia crack. Although maybe that makes it a good thing that they didn't remake it, I dunno? The bit of the MI2 remake I have played is good, although I don't like the way they've updated Guybrush's facial expressions. His pixely ones are soooo cute. And so is his beard. The only beardy man I will ever love, and you can quote me on that.)
Anyway, enough Monkey Island. My past self spoke about the manuscript library; in the present, I have just spent my day at the National Archives which was a singularly brilliant but frustrating experience. Brilliant because what I read was fascinating (two folders of letters from 1850-ish basically consisting of workers denouncing each other as "Know-nothings" or asserting their Democrat loyalties or whining about being fired... there was even one which was addressed to the president, asking him to find the sender work at the Navy Yard. I guess it got forwarded on to the right person so he was on to something?) frustrating because EVERYTHING is irrelevant. Nobody wants to talk about that time Washington got torched, and still fewer want to discuss the Navy Yard in particular. All records have a telling gap between the middle of August and the first few days of September, after which one mention is made briefly in a letter of the "disaster" and then that's it. TALK, MEN. Or WRITE. WRITE is better.
Also, I believe that it is our collective duty as members of the human race to take pains to improve our handwriting. This will be difficult, especially if you write like me, but it is important. Bad handwriting makes so many records so painful...
Washington is unseasonably hot, I am told. 105 is not normal. Yes oh god that's 40 UUUGH.
Anyway, my long term goal here is to talk about Independence Day and put up pictures, so lets do those two things. Independence day first. On July 4th, we celebrated America's 233rd birthday, which was very nice for them. After a lazy morning in which I missed all parades and readings of Declarations of Independence and all that other shit, and a nice sit-down dinner, we made the long walk down to the National Mall (not a shopping centre) to spend an afternoon chilling out and wait for the fireworks. The "we" I speak of refers to these fine people:
And no matter what Kayla says, this photo is made MUCH better by her misfiring camera. The sky really was that pink. Honest.
The park was epic good times, we sat in the shade and I ate far too many biscuits and blueberries. I also angered a crazy lady by sitting a little too close to her whilst somebody else spread a blanket out, which caused her to rail about "my space... you know, my PERSONAL space?" I think you had to be there, probably. There was also a band, who alternated between playing great songs which I loved and patriotic American songs which I am not so hot on.
And then, at 9... PSSSHOOOM! or some other such fireworky sound effect.
Michelle's photo. Big big fireworks. Happy Joy.
(Fun fact: I am having more trouble with my surname here than I have ever had back home. People get confused EVERY SINGLE TIME I show them ID, and the woman today assumed my surname must be Felicity. Even my official intern registration apparently calls me Joy Adrienne. Fuck the what, America.)
Anyways, that was then and this is now. Now I work much of the time, although sometimes I do not go to it until past 11, because I am too busy checking things on the internet. Although most of the internet checking relates to work... honest. I work in buildings that look like this:
Library of Congress' Madison building, horrible younger sibling of the Jefferson building:
Jefferson has a lovely reading room that feels a bit like the library from Beauty and the Beast (although not nearly enough shelved books. What's with that?) Madison is like what would happen if George Orwell and Jean Paul Satre's books married and had a love child. Horrific massive columned exterior, interior is a bunch of identical corridors with identical- but colour coded- doors, behind each of which no doubt lies some sort of drawing room with a letter opener and a bunch of pretentious folks torturing each other with their existence. And the lights never go off.
This is a nice National Archives building with insanely high security. Don't destroy history, folks! America's only got a few hundred years of it and they're guarding it jealously. Seriously, 7 billion bits of paper is a pretty hefty number so I guess I'd hoard that too if I had it.
And now for something completely different: BISCUITS OF LOVE
OH OH AND WHAT COULD THIS BE OM NOM NOM NOM NOM
Uhm uhm what else do I want to say. A million things. I want to share every tiny observation that comes into my head every moment of the day, but nobody is there most of the time and if they were I wouldn't really want them to be. Oh how tiresome it is to be a person.
It's hot. Did I mention it's hot? It's really rather hot. I live on the other side of the room to the air conditioning unit, and right next to our big bay windows, which means that the heat is seeping through the windows and attacking. Also i went to the bathroom without sandals yesterday and it burned the soles of my feet. That's 105 for you...
Boy is this long. And now done! Laters.
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