we took a trip last weekend to meet up with one of my best friends for her birthday in DC. this was exciting because: 1. i love her; 2. this was the most time i’ve spent with a woman my age since moving; 3. DC was in FINE form this weekend.
i could show you all the cute photos from the trip, the blooming cherry blossoms and iconic sights, but this isn’t some painstakingly curated, highly filtered instagram feed. this blog is a place for truth and transparency, bravery and boldness, buffaloes and male rights.
here’s a rundown on the weird shit we found…
we stumbled upon this amazing bridge connecting georgetown and embassy row. i have so many questions. who was dumbarton and what did he do to deserve first this beautiful, historic bridge in DC and then the tongue depressor that connects fremont and menlo park? why are there buffalo flanking the bridge? more importantly, why does it hella look like this buffalo is just about to say, “OMG becky guess who i saw at the bar last night?”
“you are NOT wearing the same boots as me”
“i cannot BELIEVE he said that to you”
we also learned that some of the DC metro stations are DEEP underground. like ten thousand leagues under the sea deep. like i could have written this whole blog post before we got to the bottom deep. like you could shine a flashlight at the top of the escalator and by the time the light reached the bottom, trump would have signed an executive order requiring all escalator passengers to carry two forms of ID and the light would have to turn around and stop stealing american jobs. but really, why are DC’s metro stations so far underground? the whole red line one day was just like NOPE, and started digging its way to china. i feel you, red line.
did we attend a black-tie unicef event? no. did we run around our hotel at 11 pm sneaking into empty ballrooms and secret passageways with judgmental 20-year-old unicef staff judging us? YOU BET.
and finally, we arrive here. the moment you’ve waited for since you awkwardly opened this page on your work computer (my bad). DC sees a lot of special interests, but few quite as….special….as the folks that marched on the white house demanding an end to male circumcision. let’s just put aside every awkward glance exchanged between all parents and children within a 50 foot radius of, you know, the most visited building in the country, and just pause to ask: REALLY? really, you fuckers? THIS is your issue?
health care? nah.
education, gun control, civil rights? nope. who cares.
until we stop mutilating our boys, nothing else matters. until we give all people full control over their health and reproductive choices…oh wait, hold on. no, no, i misspoke. just infant boys, not adult women. i stand corrected. (while holding a sign that says, “the foreskin: fun and functional!”) (i kid you not)