Washington D.C in a Nutshell

The more I stay in D.C., the more I dislike it. Being the nation’s capital, I honestly expect much more. There is nothing that really makes up this city. It’s a fine place to visit, and as I’ve said before, I have enjoyed all of my previous visits. But it didn’t take too long for the novelty of the city to wear off.

After living in D.C. for almost two months, I have finally figured this city out. D.C. is a city where people really do nothing but work. It’s a place where people just go through the motions. It feels like a lifeless city. Nobody seems happy. It’s as if everybody here is simply living to die. I’ve never lived in a city before where I looked at people and they all just looked like zombies to me; and I’ve lived in Japan, a place where everyone acts and thinks the same!

Interspersed among the local workers are the tourists, which, oddly enough, I hate. I’ve been a tourist myself in many different cities across the world (D.C. included), but for some reason, I hate tourists. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It’s like I’m hating myself, but either way, with there only being two main groups of people in D.C., it makes me like the city even less because it is so bland.

Apart from the lifeless people who live here, the city is simply boring. The geography is flat. There aren’t any great parks, and there isn’t any beautiful scenery. There is one thing to do in D.C.: museums. Again, the museums are great, but when you’re looking for a little bit more to do than look at stuff and read things, there just isn’t much substance here. Basically, there is nothing to do here past 5 o’clock because that’s when the museums close.

I have asked the advice of what to do from locals and people who have lived here for awhile, as well, and I never get great answers about it. One person told me of the lovely coffee shops and bookstores in the area. Another person mentioned going to see a show at the local theater. Someone else told me where to find good food. Actually, a lot of people told me where to find good food.

But what does that say about the city? There’s good food? I can find good food, coffee shops, bookstores and plays in any city. It’s not unique, which is what really brings D.C. down. There is nothing actually special about the city, and the vibes that the local people give off from working all the time just brings it down even more.

With so little to look forward to, this city clings onto anything it has, no matter how uneventful it may be. The weather is getting better, and with that, the cherry blossoms will be in full bloom soon. Everywhere I go, I see cherry blossom stuff. There are even cherry blossom stickers in the subways to make it seem like the cherry blossoms blooming is the next great event in history.

Sadly for D.C., it’s not. Maybe they do it for the tourists. That could be a possibility, but I still feel like they do it because they are so excited of the fact that the cherry blossoms are going to bloom because nothing else even remotely exciting happens here.

Fortunately for myself, I won’t be here for much longer. D.C. just really doesn’t have much to offer me. It’s basically like any other city, except with six million people living in it. To me, it’s boring. There’s less to do here than in my hometown, which only has a couple hundred thousand people in it. Unfortunately for me, though, I am leaving as soon as it gets warmer. You can’t win them all, I suppose.

I Hate Reading

I have spent a good portion of my life trying to like reading but to no avail. I’m not uneducated or unintelligent, but to this day, I hate reading, and I still don’t know why. I can read articles and newspapers, things of that nature, but when it comes to sitting down and reading a book, I can’t do it. I’ve probably read less than ten full adult books in my life. I say “adult books” because I don’t really count Garfield as being a book.

The reason this presents a problem to me is because without reading, I am severely limiting the amount of knowledge that I can otherwise gain. There is so much valuable information to be found in books, and this is something that I am fully aware of. Most people I know just read books for fun. I wish I liked books because it seems like I am depriving myself of a hobby that so many other people enjoy. Despite this, it doesn’t affect my overall outlook on reading books. I still hate doing it.

Oftentimes, people give me advice on how I can enjoy reading. The most common suggestion I hear is, “You have to find something you’re interested in.” I’ve tried this. It’s helped somewhat. The first “real” book that I picked up myself and finished was something that I personally wanted to read and was interested in.

But what about books that I’m not necessarily interested in? How do other people find the will to read books that they may not enjoy? I find it difficult enough reading books that interest me. It’s nearly impossible reading material that doesn’t particularly intrigue me.

I think the problem I have with reading books is that they all seem to be written in some sort of cryptic prose. I don’t like reading books and having to figure out what the author is saying. I get that they’re written that way to describe events to the reader so that the reader may better visualize what is happening. The problem I have with this is that every single book I’ve ever picked up is written this way, and it’s the whole book, too.

I don’t want to read multiple paragraphs about how somebody picked up a rock on the beach. Unless it’s especially useful to the story to extrapolate this event, I wish the author would just write, “She picked the rock up off of the beach.” Or, if the author’s feeling particularly frisky, he could write, “She picked the jagged rock up off of the beach.” Whatever the case may be, I’d rather get to the important parts of the story faster.

And that’s really the heart of the issue for me. It’s boring. I just want the story. I want the facts without all the fluff. Isn’t that what a story is really about anyway? It’s about the actual story. Although, I suppose many people would argue it’s about conveying the story in a meaningful manner. For me, I guess that’s where I differ from other people. I can fill in the rest with my imagination. I’d rather just have the important points faster so that I can enjoy the overall story.

There are so many books available to read, as well. I have spoken with a number of people who encourage me to read “their” books. Everyone has a different favorite book or book series. There really is no way to read them all. So, the way I see it is if books were shorter, I could enjoy more of them. Maybe I would enjoy them to a lesser extent, but since I can read more of them in the same amount of time, I think my overall enjoyment would be greater. And… I wouldn’t be bored, so I’d actually be able to read them.

But, that’s not the way it is. Books aren’t written like that, and unless I wanted to only read book summaries for classics, I’m out of luck. It’s a shame, too because many books sound interesting to me. I just can’t get into them. I have plenty of books in my room, and I frequently rent them out from the library, as well. I’m trying to like books, but it’s still not working. I typically get a chapter or two into a book and get bored. At that point, I either stop reading the book completely or if it’s a book to expand my knowledge, I just skip around and try to gain as much information as possible. In rare cases, I will trudge through the book, and in ever rarer cases do I actually finish it. I guess that’s why I’m more of a movie and video game person. I suppose I was born during the right age then.

So, that’s my relationship with books. It’s kind of a love/hate relationship. I like books and realize how important they are. Sometimes, their covers and titles just intrigue me. It might be weird to say, but I actually like having books around me. I enjoy spending time at the library and going through the library rows looking at all of the interesting books containing infinite amounts of information. It’s interesting to me to just look at two different books and know they have so much knowledge – different knowledge – contained within them. It makes me feel small in a world full of information. At the same time, it makes me feel part of something great; like I’m a part of this infinite amount of knowledge that grows every day. In this sense, I hope books never die. They’re so important and so interesting.

Alas, I can never read them. And that’s why I hate them.

Does anyone else have this problem, or does anyone have something to add to the discussion? I’d love to read about it in the comments section down below. Let me know.

Flying Sucks

I’m sitting in an airport right now, waiting to catch a flight so I can finally go home for the first time in over a year.  While waiting, it got me thinking: flying sucks.  And I don’t mean in the “Oh, this is somewhat annoying.” kind of way.  I mean in the “Everything about flying sucks, and I wish I was doing just about anything other than flying.” kind of way.

To be clear, I’m only talking about the process of going from A to B, not the actual destination itself.  I’ve been flying since I was ten, so it’s not a matter of being nervous or having the anxieties any new flier might have.  It’s just that the meat and bones, the whole process of flying itself, is a terrible experience that I would only wish upon maybe three of my worst enemies, maximum.

The hell of it all begins even before you leave the house.  Airport security can be so long, especially for international flights, that when traveling it’s necessary to wake up ridiculously early.  Then, you have to get to the airport.  Depending on where you live, the amount of time it takes varies greatly.  My hometown isn’t near a major airport, so when flying, I have to drive around two hours just to get to an airport that flies to more than three destinations.

Of course, once you’re actually at the airport, then you really have to play the waiting game.  You have to wait to check your baggage.  You have to wait to go through airport security.  You have to wait for the airplane to show up, to board, to leave.  Then, once you land, you have to wait to get off the plane and wait to get your bags.  Then, once you have actually landed and have all of your stuff, you still have to wait to get to your destination.  If you have a connecting flight, the layover can be anywhere from less than an hour to around a days time (my longest layover was a 19 hour layover in Shanghai).  Of course, you always run the risk of missing your connecting flight.  Assuming you do, it’s more waiting.

And you can’t forget about the other gems that you’re treated to while flying: airlines losing your bags, the expensive food and drink, the strict and obnoxious flying rules, limited space on airplanes, and my personal favorite: when an airport doesn’t have wi-fi.  That’s not to say I think airport staff are doing a bad job or there is a way to greatly improve the flying experience.  I just think the whole system sucks, and without more consistency, it’s not going to get any better.

The problem with that is that flying is so unpredictable.  Planes can have breakdowns, and weather also poses a large problem.  I was once stuck at an airport (and subsequently missed my next flight) because birds flew into the rotors, and they had to check the plane for damages (or so they say).  Also, there is no way to judge how busy the airport is going to be.  You can guess based on peak times, but even if you do properly assess the amount of people there are going to be at the airport, that just means you have figured out how long you are going to wait.  It’s not possible to choose flights based off of traffic at the airport either since there are only a limited number of flights each day traveling to your destination.  So, basically, you’re at the mercy of the airlines.

So, to me, flying just exists as a means to an end.  I do it because I have to.  I try and make the best of it, of course, but that doesn’t mean it’s actually good.  It still sucks, and I still have at least six more hours of waiting before I get home.  Anyone agree/disagree, or am I just an ornery not-quite-old-yet man?