USA, DC - Journey Into the End of the Night

An evening race & a massive game of tag in DC
-------------------

I started out with my cousin, Chris, and my friend Sarah. We arrived at Dupont Circle a bit late: we just got off the Metro escalator in time to see a mass of at least a hundred people dart southward. We decided to stick to the roads less traveled on our way to station 2: we actually approached from the opposite side, passing by blues heading toward #3 in the process.

At station #2, paralleling many others, we crossed over to the Mall. To much surprise: not a chaser to be found anywhere within the shadows. During this time we joined up with two others whom had avoided a chaser approaching #2, but myself and my original two teammates ultimately made it to #3 without even seeing a single chaser. We went straight through the Mall -- wrapping around the Washington Monument on its south side. We then jumped a block further south to sneak into #3 from the back.

We approached #3 from the southwest and that was, without a doubt, the way to go. Upon arrival at the station, a horde of blues came charging in from the Mall: out of breath at what was described as a masse of chasers wreaking havoc upon the Mall. From discussions later on, it sounds like a big chunk of people were caught just north of station 3.

Since the north sounded so dangerous, we left to the south again: only this time a girl in blue -- a chaser -- had just arrived. We bolted away toward the Metro and she did not give chase (I later found several people whom were similarly frightened by this Girl in Blue). At the Metro escalators, we toyed with the idea of riding one stop north to get us toward #4, but ultimately ditched the idea. The theory was that since so many people were just caught at the Smithsonian, it seemed likely that many would be taking Metro to try and beat the other blues to the next stations.

Going across the Mall and going right up next the White House, we made it to #4 without seeing any chasers. So apart from the one which didn't give chase, we had effectively gone without any chasers at all. The staff at this station was particularly entertaining: they required us to do origami in order to get the needed signatures. Being an engineer and thus having minimal artistic talent, I folded each corner of my square paper to make a *very* crude "crown". Sarah one-upped me by making a paper crane... but it didn't matter: my crown was worthy of a signature and I was happy. I chatted with a chaser whom was resting at the station: she seemed a bit disheartened that the only person she had caught thus far was another chaser.

Since we made it this far without any setbacks, we got greedy. The five of us tried to decide how to approach station #5: should we take Metro to Chinatown? Should we walk to Chinatown? Should we take the grand New York Ave? Should we cut further north?

We declined Metro because it just seemed like too great a trap. If you run into one chaser anywhere in a station, you can be assured that you've just earned yourself a shadow. We declined heading toward Chinatown / Verizon Center because of the sheer masses of people. On the one hand, we might be able to blend into the crowds. On the other hand, so would the chasers. We declined going out of the way because, up to this point, it all just seemed to easy.

New York Avenue went pretty well. About a block shy of Mt. Vernon Square, we had just crossed the street when I spotted a chaser approaching to my left. I thought I yelled out something to my group, though apparently all I did was just belt out a line of incoherent gibberish and take off running, leaving my group behind. What can I say: I'm a natural at teamwork.

I went straight, glanced back, and spotted that the chaser gave up on me. Chris and Sarah darted north and the two others that had joined us went across to the other side of New York Ave. The chaser apparently pursued Chris and Sarah somewhat, but gave up. If that chaser is reading this and recognises that encounter: you said something right as I crossed the street which grabbed my attention. Had you not said anything, you probably could have walked right up and got me.

If I have the story correct (which is probably not the case), a chaser arrived by car and pursued Chris and Sarah -- ultimately catching them somewhere north of New York Ave. I rejoined with the two others of our group just a block to the east and, together, we approached Mt. Vernon Square. We hesitated slightly before crossing, deciding whether we should go through the square where we'd have lots of space to run; or take the perimeter of the area -- alongside the buildings -- and hope to avoid a potential mess.

We chose to go through the square. I was confident that I could out-sprint and outmaneuver most chasers. Halfway along the southern side of the square, all we had seen were homeless along the benches. Then, as I had frequently been doing the entire time, I glanced back just to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. There never was every other time I glanced back, why would there be anything different now?

Like something out of 28 Days Later, about 100 feet back I saw a tall & seemingly athletic male coming toward us full-speed. This time I think my yell was a bit more legible. Our female companion ran southward, across the street, and was nabbed by a chaser waiting on the receiving sidewalk. Our male companion ran straight and, as I later heard from the girl, apparently made it. I went left, into the square.

A female chaser ran up on my right; I went left. Out of the corner of my eye, I espied movement on my left; I went right. Now I was approaching the northeast corner of the square when a man cut off my access to the crosswalks. It was at this moment where I realised that I was no longer an energetic teenager, but was now an engineer in his mid-20s whom gets winded just by standing up from the office chair. I ceased my sprint and walked toward the man before me.

I watched just 50 feet beyond at the pedestrian signals counting down the seconds and contemplated trying to doing a fancy spin move... or maybe to try running left again along the north side of the square. I ultimate nixed the idea because: spin moves don't work when all you have to do is be tagged, I wasn't wearing cleats, my muscles weren't up to it, and the guy waiting before me was still poised to chase, just in case. Reaching out, I walked up and shook his hand. My night as a free man had come to an end. I didn't think the chasers would be so plentiful and/or organised at Mt. Vernon Square.

Banding with a couple chasers (one of which was my female companion of yore), we traveling north and hopped on the Metro to take it one station north -- to Shaw / Howard U. On the train, we spotted some blues in one of the train cars -- we moved into an adjacent car and tried to remain nonchalant. I got off at Shaw/Howard to follow one of the blues; and the others stayed onboard to track the remaining blues to U Street. Had I known that a chaser was already on that car with the blues -- meaning that sneaking up on them was pointless -- I probably wouldn't have gotten off at this station by myself.

Some other chasers at this station went north and I camped out the station's escalators. Not so much because I wanted to camp, but rather because I was hoping to reunite with Chris & Sarah; and wasn't too keen on venturing too far around this neighborhood on my own. Whilst on the phone chatting with my other two teammates -- both now chasers, themselves -- two blues surprised me by coming up the escalator. Maybe it was the camo hat or the pale white skin that obviously did not belong, but these two blues were staring at me as they walked off the escalator -- trying to spot any potential orange band on the arm facing away from them.

Had I just held out a moment longer, I probably could have blocked the escalators and, hence, their best exit. However, I knew I couldn't really rotate myself to keep my arm band away, or else I ran the risk of them getting even MORE suspicious. So I went for it... and wasn't fast enough. They made it to the escalator: the guy walking backwards along the up escalator; the girl walking upwards on the down escalator. On the one hand I felt kind of bad to put them in this situation and keep them there, but on the other hand I thought it was pretty funny. The looks being drawn from the regular patrons on the escalators or waiting for the bus cracked me up... but ultimately the blues went back down & rode to another station.

Just a minute beyond that, I left the station entirely and went south to 7-11 to rendezvous with Chris & Sarah. Along with them was the very chaser that ultimately caught me. ...Or at least I think it was. I bought myself some Fuse & an Arizona tea, and we went east toward station #7. The final destination stuck out like a sore thumb: the party overflowing into the steps in front.

We crossed over and rested a bit. A couple minutes later, a female blue came around from the same street we took; and a chaser came around at the same time. I'm pretty sure this entire area was a safe zone, but the girl ran and the chaser gave chase. ...Right across the road. ...Right in front of traffic. ...Right in front of a District police car.

The flashers came on and the vehicle pulled up right in front of me. Another guy and myself both approached the cruiser whilst the chaser & blue entered into the house. Their departure probably didn't set the right tone with the police, but us two explained to the officers what we were doing, that everyone's supposed to obey the law, they are welcome to enforce as needed, we know we're not supposed to run across roads, etc. When it was asked whether or not there was any alcohol at the party, I held up my Arizona bottle -- a perfectly-timed prop -- and the police departed seconds later. Party organisers, remember: sub-free people make a great front for the police (unless they can't be trusted to keep back their qualms about alcohol).

Overall, the police presence was pretty kind. Considering the area, the officers at the party were probably just glad that we weren't shooting at them. The federal police around the Mall were pretty kind: we all said hi to them, they said hi right back. En route to station 4, we had asked a guard near the White House whether he had seen any people with orange armbands around. He said he'd seen several and inquired what it was about, we just said a massive game of tag, he let out a faint chuckle, and we kept on our way.

Back to the party: some more minutes went by as we rested our feet, and quite a number of blues trickled in from the northeast. I was impressed at how many made it: well done, everyone. A walk to the Metro and a train ride back to College Park, we grabbed some TGIFridays and called it a night. I may not have made it to the end intact, but it was nonetheless a fun time... and a great reminder that I REALLY need to get back into shape.

THOUGHT - (Gnipeels eb dluohs i) Sdrawkcab delleps setats.

Alabama
Amabala
An Arabic delicacy.

Alaska
Aksala
A fast train.

Arizona
Anozira
A sleeping pill.

Arkansas
Sasnakra
A dietary supplement.

California
Ainrofilac
A flower.

Colorado
Odaroloc
A god of a native Americans tribe.

Connecticut
Tucitcennoc
The 100th tucit.

Delaware
Erawaled
In Waled's time.

Florida
Adirolf
He invaded Poland.

Georgia
Aigroeg
A hair growth potion.

Hawaii
Iiawah
Saying all the vowels really fast.

Idaho
Ohadi
An Indian horseman

Illinois
Sionilli
A Jewish-Italian surname

Indiana
Anaidni
The alien race known only to Art Bell fans.

Iowa
Awoi
Part of the All Black's Haka chant.

Kansas
Sasnak
A profane word for the modern era.

Kentucky
Ykcutnek
Russian for "redneck"

Louisiana
Anaisiuol
A medicinal alcohol.

Maine
Eniam
The latest otaku festival.

Maryland
Dnalyram
An uncomfortable sexual position.

Massachusetts
Sttesuhcassam
It still looks like "Massachusetts" even when backwards, except now it's a chasm.

Michigan
Nagihcim
A Japanese angel.

Minnesota
Atosennim
An antivenin.

Mississippi
Ippississim
An ippie sissie sim. OK I didn't try very hard with this one.

Missouri
Iruossim
If you read this aloud, it sounds like you're saying "Hello, Sam" while drunk.

Montana
Anatnom
I studied this in school.

Nebraska
Aksarben
A rail line. Seriously.

Nevada
Adaven
A small Dutch city.

New Hampshire
Erihspmah Wen
A Yiddish Chinaman.

New Jersey
Yesrej Wen
A Scandinavian Chinaman.

New Mexico
Ocixem Wen
An Aztec Chinaman.

New York
Kron Wen
A Chinese person that misunderstood choosing an American name.

North Carolina
Anilorac Htron
A woman in the seventh Star Wars movie.

North Dakota
Atokad Htron
The husband of the woman in the seventh Star Wars movie.

Ohio
Oiho
A test case for dyslexia.

Oklahoma
Amohalka
Mountaineering clothing for traditional Indian shepherds

Oregon
Nogero
A Japanese city

Pennsylvania
Ainavlysnnep
Something in Welsh.

Rhode Island
Dnalsi Edohr
He was an Elf.

South Carolina
Anilorac Htuos
The cousin of the aforementioned woman from the seventh Star Wars movie.

South Dakota
Atokad Htuos
By amazing coincidence, the husband of the cousin of the aforementioned woman from the seventh Star Wars movie.

Tennessee
Eessennet
What the Senate is called in the South.

Texas
Saxet
They merged with the Anglets to become the Anglet-Saxets.

Utah
Hatu
Japanese for "Hat".

Vermont
Tnomrev
"Tnom go rev... vroom vroom"

Virginia
Ainigriv
A classic blues ballad.

Washington
Notgnihsaw
Why is the "g" is silent?

West Virginia
Ainigriv Tsew
Sun Tzu's blues-singing nephew.

Wisconsin
Nisnocsiw
A military acronym.

Wyoming
Gnimoyw
Gleonardw Gnimoyw.

THOUGHT - PA Election Factoid

I think it's interesting how in every election since 1976, Pennsylvania has successfully voted for the Presidential candidate whom would win the Pennsylvanian primary.

POLITICS - Uncle Bossi's Political Rundown

From however much attention I was paying to the debates:

Plugging his/her website:
Hillary - 2
Obama - 0

Mispronouncing "Lancaster":
Hillary - 1
Obama - 0

Way to be in touch.

When I'm running for President, I'm going to make my campaign website something like boomshakalaka.com (if only it weren't already taken by some skeezy/cheesy-looking audio website).

THOUGHT - Made In (the Republic of) China

I think it would be a lot of fun to go to some store around here -- say, a Wal*Mart -- and take a bunch of "Made In Taiwan" stickers off the merchandise. Then go to the Olympics in China, visit some of the shops there, and put those stickers on everything.

THOUGHT - Don't Squeeze My Goomba

I had a very philosophical rant today about Mario. Now think about it, here you have this man -- a plumber by trade -- running around to save a princess. Firstly, why is the princess in such dire straits? What exactly was she doing to get herself kidnapped in the first place? Where were her ever-vigilant 4-foot tall guards with their 3-foot tall mushroom hats? Dagnabit, ma'am, hire yourself a Swiss legion; and when you're playing football: wear some clothes and don't come off as such a ditz. All you do is bake cakes, pick peaches, and get yourself kidnapped.

I find myself wondering: is Bowser after her money; her power; or is Bowser just a pervert after some cross-species lovins? Or maybe Bowser has a thing for Victorian-esque dresses and is just seeking some fashion advice the only way he knows how: kidnapping people. Maybe, growing up, all Bowser ever learned from his parents was that force was the answer: so he's never known any other way. I bet if you exhaled fire with every breath, people might stay kind of far away from you -- that sort of isolation can be pretty rough on a little kid. Just because he likes the color pink and comes off as a bit of a bully, Mario has to go and be a hot-shot.

By "hot-shot" I mean this: he runs around and jumps on cute little critter's heads, squashing them down to a pancake. I mean, would you seriously go out and, say, jump on an innocent little bunny? Goombas really aren't so different from a bunny: all they ever do is amble about; and there are hundreds of them all over the place. And "goomba" is an Italian term for a very close friend, so really what Mario is doing is squishing cute little guys that just want to be his buddy. Then there's Koopas, wandering about with babbling mouths resembling little fishies... well... OK maybe resembling little turtles. Every Marylander should take dear offense every time a precious terrapin is lost beneath that pair of Italian shoes.

I'm really irked whenever Mario comes up to a flying critter. In these situations, Mario must either land on top of the hapless animal and jump off its head to reach the ledge on the far side; or Mario will fall to his doom. Clearly, option #2 is not a preferable choice for our "hero", so he runs off and leaps on top of a jovial beast whose only crime is enjoying the breeze beneath its wings. In its last for moments of life before an overweight plumber quashes his aviator spirits and sends him falling to his doom, I'm sure that critter wishes he knew what made it so bloody important that Mario had to get across that cliff.

What I want to know is just that: why does Mario HAVE to get across that ledge, anyway? Didn't Mario ever learn that he shouldn't go jumping off of cliffs? Or that cliffs are dangerous? I mean, he might miss the critter and then Mario would himself meet his demise. I bet Mario's mother would be disheartened to learn that her son ran off the edge like a lemming, and she would surely blame herself for never teaching him any better. "If only he joined the mafia like every other young boy, he wouldn't have gotten into this mess," she'd say.

Whenever I am playing Mario and come to a point where I have to sacrifice a koopa or a goomba to the great abyss just so I don't have to fall into the void myself, I always turn around and go back the other way. It's just not worth it, man... it's just not worth it.

DREAM - Weird dream...

I had a weird dream last night... it has been a long time since I've had a dream this vivid, which is rather odd because these kinds of dreams always seem to have a lot of things that actually happen in real life. I'm not sure if that's just causality, though: I think it so I make it happen -- sort of like how you don't notice some type of car until you get one, and suddenly it seems like they're everywhere. In this sense, I dream about things that I subconsciously know will happen anyway -- so when they occur I think "hey wow I dreampt about that".

My grandparent's house.

Basically, it took place in a house which I somehow knew to be in New York. It was an old house -- about 100 years old -- which was similar in design to the East Falls neighborhood in Philly, out near Penn Charter. Fitting, as the first two floors were nearly identical to the first two floors of my grandparent's house in East Falls (as shown in the attached image). The kitchen and hallway were the same and the staircase was there, though I can't recall much of the living room or porch or too many specifics of the 2nd floor.

It was a dark night and windy, but otherwise dry out with a relatively clear sky. For some reason there was a war on and I was dressed in military fatigues. The house was host to my platoon of about 25 people -- as far as we were aware, the home's owners were not around, so we occupied the house as a base. The commanding officer was reviewing documents in the kitchen and asked me to go upstairs to track down another officer whom was needed. I don't remember much of the CO, but I somehow knew what the officer I was supposed to track down looked like -- he was a fellow CE from Penn State whom specialised in hydrology.

Going up the staircase -- again almost identical to my Grandparent's, I was heading up to the third floor when I called out the soldier's name. I didn't hear a response, but I somehow knew that he would be in the bedroom at the far-left end of the hall. I kept going up the stairs, wrapped around the banister, and here the 3rd floor was a bit different from my grandparent's house.

There were two doors on the right and a bathroom straight ahead -- the same as our house in Philly, but the left side was altered a bit. Here, there was a small nook just above the stairs which went to a door to the outside; and the bedroom was now down an elongated hall. The door to the outside had an odd look: not your typical house sort of door, but more like some mechanical contraption, albeit with a small window right at head-height. Outside was a small ledge, with an even smaller ledge leading along the right side (alongside the bedroom).

The real 3rd floor of my grandparent's house on the left; my dream's layout on the right.

In the floorplan image I have here, the left is the 3rd floor of my grandparent's house; the right is the layout in my dream. The two doors at right lead off to other rooms, the door at the top is the bathroom, and the door at mid-left (in the dream) is the door to the outside ledge.

I went to the bedroom and walked in on the soldier and a woman both sound asleep in bed. Yes, sleeping -- this isn't that kind of dream. I make some wise crack to wake them up, at which point the soldier leaps up -- dressed in boxers & an undershirt (I'm glad, too: I wouldn't know what to think of myself if I had a dream where a male was wearing anything less).

The woman, wearing nil, ran off like lightening into a closet or bathroom or something on the other side of the room. I can only assume it was a bathroom, as I know it had a window... not many closets have windows. Somehow in that fleeting second of blazing nudity, I recognised the woman as the "Baroness". Not sure why I called her that... and I'm also not sure how exactly I knew that her family was the true owner of the house which we were occupying.

The soldier was throwing on his fatigues and I made some joke about how he shouldn't bother to stop what he was doing, as by the time he got to see the CO, the CO would probably forget why he wanted the soldier in the first place. I forget how exactly I phrased it, but we both had a good laugh... it must have been funnier than how I typed it above, or maybe it was just the nature of the embarrassing moment which made any outlet of humor seem funnier. My duty done, I turned around and walked back down the hall, where I am confronted by the Baroness right by the stair -- near the door to the outside. Apparently when she ran into the side room, she hopped out a window, went along a ledge, and came back in through the door to the outside.

Now fully dressed, she apologised for meeting me in such a manner and formally introduced herself. She was in her mid-20's, fair skinned, dark brown hair, and had wavy hair that made me think of the style from around the 1940's. She wore a black dress with a white sash, with a gray wool overcoat -- also all in a 1940's fashion. I might best compare her to a young Jennifer Garner, but a bit different. At this point the soldier, dressed, showed up behind me and briefly got between me and the Baroness before (as if protecting his interest), but a second later stepped back to free up some space and let me chat to the Baroness.

There was a bit of idle chatter which I can't quite recall, but it was just a couple lines lasting maybe 30 seconds. I then pointed at the door to the outside and asked if it was a retractable bridge. How did I know it was that? Don't know. Why would I suddenly ask that, of all things? Not sure... but somehow I thought I knew what it was and curiosity got the best of me.

The Baroness was surprised that I would have known what it was, saying how no one knew what it was outside of her family. I said that I had seen the house in a photo once and that our families used to be friends a long time ago, so I remembered once learning about the bridge. I have no idea where this info all came from... I certainly can't recall such a photo or learning of such a bridge.

Excited, she opened a panel beside the door (it looked like a fuse box), flipped a switch, opened the door, and walked out onto a narrow bridge which was now emerging from the house -- apparently hidden within the floor directly beneath us. It extended out about 30 feet before the wind really started pushing it back and forth. The Baroness became worried and I yelled for her to bring the bridge back in before it got damaged, to which she complied and retracted the bridge.

This is what the river looked like.

The three of us stared across the way -- the yard below gave way to a wood fence (again: just like my grandparent's yard). Beyond the yard was a small, narrow street with crumbling pavement -- I assume it was crumbling because of whatever war it was that was occurring. Just beyond the street was the bank leading down to a river. The riverbanks were just like the Salzach in Salzburg -- moderately-steep slopes covered with bare grass.

On the other bank was the first floor of what used to be a building. It was in ruins, with many of the walls still generally standing, but they were several gaping holes in the walls and one wall facing us was indeed gone entirely. Much of the rear walls (actually the front of the house, facing away from us) were also gone. The ceiling was completely caved in -- nothing at all was left of it. The house was generally blue-ish in color and much of it appeared to be relatively recent construction.

Through all the holes I could see waifs running all over the place in the ruined house on the other side of the river. They all ran off about a minute later, chasing some critter that ran outside and away from the building. Somehow I knew that this side of the river was the defacto "no man's land" between my side's army and whomever we were fighting. The only people left were the children whom lacked both supervision and an understanding of what exactly was happening.

After staring at the ruins a bit, I came to realise that the ruined modern building had actually been constructed on the foundation of an older building which had apparently been demolished. This original building's foundation led me to think that it was likely of a similar design as the house that I was in. Then I followed the thought process and realised that the retractable bridge used to connect with a receiving building on the other side of the river.

Somehow the three of us knew this to be important... but just as I was starting to make the connections as to how exactly it was so important to me, my bloody alarm clock woke me up: it was 7:50 and time to go to work. However, in that first split-second where you cross from being nearly unconscious to being awake, a thought flashed through my head: I have to go to New York.

This thought wasn't a "I have to go right NOW" sort of thought, but just that I need to get myself there within the next couple years. Now the trick is that I have no idea where in New York. It kind of felt like I was in Upstate or Western New York, but I have no connections there so that just doesn't seem right. I do have connections on Long Island... but since I've never been there, I don't know what it looks like to be sure. So I guess now I need to explore and chase down my dream... might sound weird, but I've done it before and have found places I've never been to, but have dreampt about. Causality, perhaps?