Representation Restricted

I had a master plan last night. It involved going to bed early and then waking up at 6:00 to head to the local Georgetown DMV (official District resident, anyone?)

If by “going to bed early” I meant going to bed at 2 a.m., then I succeeded. I don’t even know what I was doing. Watching T.V.? Checking the G.W. Facebook boards?

So my 6:00 wake up plan was shifted to 7:30, but not to worry; I took my first public bus ride on the Circulator (which I’m now in love with: only $1 fares and it saves me a LOT of blocks of walking!) successfully, and made it to the DMV with 20 minutes before opening time to spare.

And over 20 people were in front of me.



I can’t say I wasn’t nervous. The DMV opened at 8:15. I was praying to get out of there before 10 – IF I was lucky.

Lo and behold, the District seems to be quite the efficient place thus far. I was out of the DMV with my new license by 9:00 a.m., and it actually took me longer than most people in for the same thing because my license got stuck in the printer. (Oh, Murphy’s law. Now that I have a Murphy bed, do you have to follow me everywhere I go?)

Either way, I can’t say I wasn’t surprised by my pleasant experience at the DMV.

After the DMV, in city style, I took the Metro to the Tenleytown/AU stop to go to The Container Store, where I was offered a job for my intense excitement about organization. (True story).

I also bought a sweet bag made by the Baggalini company. They tend to make super lightweight, water-resistant bags with tons of secret compartments for women’s things. I have learned while in D.C. that having a large, comfortable bag is essential. Where else can you put your book, your money, your Metro card, your water, your sunglasses, and any purchases you might make along the way?

What do boys do in this city?

Then, I walked home from the Metro, and paused to look at this plaque underneath a tree:



I’d been seeing a lot of D.C. license plates saying “Taxation Without Representation.” I figured that this was some corny remembrance of our Declaration of Independence days, being in our nation’s capital. But no. It’s an ironic statement representing the residents of the District of Columbia, who have no voting rights in the U.S. Senate and have a delegate in the House of Representatives…who can’t vote on the floor of the House.

This is because D.C. is not a state, but rather a federal territory.

Crazy – residents of D.C. couldn’t vote for the president until 1961, when they received 3 electoral college votes.

Also, fun fact. Vincent Gray, the seventh (and current) governor of the District of Columbia, is an African American who joined the Jewish fraternity Tau Epsilon Phi…and became president of the fraternity. TWICE.

Anyway, I am now tired because of my distinct inability to fall asleep at a decent hour. But it’s comforting to know that I’m an official resident of The District.




And that’s the way the hippo heckles.