leaving tenleytown

After two weeks in the quiet suburb of D.C., we're moving into its heart. I'll be blogging from the lovely Henley Park Hotel until October.

Meanwhile, enjoy my pix.

Georgetown sky

Shopping in Georgetown



Chili Dog Time!





Train ride to Philly

Kim and me on Locust Walk again with Joelle



Joshua at Penn







Kelly Drive -- beautiful drive in Philly I never got to enjoy in college because I was a book worm



With Philly girls at Rittenhouse Square

two down 70 more to go

That's what Aric said to me over our anniversary dinner last night. It's been the most life-changing, beautiful, challenging two years of our lives.

To celebrate, Aric told me to be ready by 7 p.m. As I slipped on my heels, I asked him if we would be doing any walking. He simply said, you won't have to unless you want to. I had no idea what he meant, until a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up Wesley's dormitory. It took us down Massachusetts Avenue, through the Embassy Row lined by towering mansions. We arrived at Dupont Circle, my favorite neighborhood in Washington D.C. to date. I say, "to date" because I'm certain that as we explore this gorgeous city, we will find more that we love.


I was immediately taken by the simple yet lovely atmosphere at Darlington House. Aric said he picked a place that I would not only enjoy tonight with him, but would want to take my mother to when she visited. The food was flavorful, service impeccable. It was perfect.




We then took a walk around the neighborhood. As we turned a corner, we both paused and looked at each other. The street -- with its brown stones and lush green trees -- felt very much like Edgar Allen Poe Street in Upper West Side. This was the street Aric lived on for two years in New York. A street that holds so many memories of our early 20s. We walked on a little longer to a bridge, lingered by a statue of Gandhi as Aric finished his cigar, then took a cab home.




This morning, I took a walk around my neighborhood. The air is so sweet here. Here are some shots of the block where we're staying.

thank you

Postings about our first week in D.C. are to come. We've loved our time here so far -- the beautiful tree-lined streets of Tenleytown. The long walks around McPherson Square near the White House. Aric's version is funny, as usual -- here.

But before moving on to the new and different, I want to pause here to thank our old friends. The letters, gifts, dinners, hugs... they added up to a poignant goodbye -- so much sweeter than bitter.

Thank you, Diana, Mary Renee, Jennifer and Nary who helped me sort through the chaos that was our apartment before the movers arrived. Thank you, Ben and Susan, for the lovely party and the thoughtful care package. Thank you, Wilsons, Calandra and the Forsters for the gift cards, which have already been gratefully used! Thank you, TJ for dropping by the night before the move with wine in hand. Thank you, Haahs, for making that drive to send us off. Thank you, Alicia, Kenny, Naomi and Olivia for being family to us.

We are loved -- and it was gratitude rather than saddness that kept the tears coming on our ride to the airport on Sunday.









This was us, four years ago.

leaving L.A.

Aric wrote a beautiful entry about what we will miss the most about L.A. Click here.

on to become government asset

It's final. Aric and I are moving to Washington D.C. The move date has been set. The plane tickets have been reserved.

Finally quit work on Friday. That night, Aric and I set out to San Diego for a relaxing get-away. We pampered ourselves with a night at plush hotel in Del Mar, ate scrumptious chicken soup at a Mexican hole-in-the-wall, and enjoyed late night talks with good friends. I'll be spending the next three weeks tying up loose ends, selling our cars and saying goodbye to folks. Aric will be working and taking classes clear to our move date: Aug. 29. We fly out to D.C. two days later.

I'll be giving an update from time to time as we move and begin exploring this brand new chapter in our lives. We'll be in Washington D.C. for six months while I undergo training at the Foreign Service Institute and Aric takes courses at Wesley Theological Seminary.

Here's one thing I've learned so far. Government folks love acronyms. It's been pretty jarring. Reporters are never allowed to use acronyms we don't define, and even if we do, we shy away from them. Now, I can't write a single e-mail without them when I communicate with the Department of State, or the DOS. I'm not a foreign service officer, but an FSO. Our furniture that will go into storage is HHE and shipment that will travel with us to Washington D.C. is UAB. Insurance options? Forget about it. I gave up last night trying to tell the difference between FEHBP, FEDVIP, FSAFEDS.

Aric is writing a series of blog entries about our move. Check it out: www.aricallen.blogspot.com. It'll make you chuckle.

preach it, husband!

My first sight of Aric was at a homeless shelter, with mic in hand, preaching to a hungry, tired crowd of New York's down and out. I remember observing him curiously. How could this young yuppie, in his Banana Republic pants and crisp white shirt, seem so at ease up there telling homeless men that God loves them?

Recently, Aric started preaching again, as a part of his internship at our church. He's the same, poised man I encountered six year ago -- albeit more weathered and yet more comfortable in his own skin. I must say, his sermons are also more insightful and well-researched than I remember them from those cold winter nights at Bowery. That -- I credit Fuller and the California sun.

turning 29 again

As my husband so kindly put it, I'm turning 29 again this month. The past couple months, to the annoyance of my friends, I've been lamenting about the end of an era, the end of a glorious feast called the 20s.

Perhaps it's because once as a child, my eyes fell on a book on my aunt's bookshelf titled: "Thirty: The party is over." Or because I love the word chong-choon in Korean and sei-shun in Japanese that literally mean the color green and spring, or the springtime of life. The other day, as I was telling my mom about walking through Central Park with a close friend and sharing a cup of coffee and cupcake in the middle of the day, she asked me, how is it that your chong-choon is lasting so long?

So this certain wistfulness in turning 30 (there, I said it) lies in wanting the spring time of my life to last forever. The thrill of the unknown, the ability to travel on a whim, the right to be young and fresh. But I guess spring year-round wouldn't be too fun either. Once again, C.S. Lewis managed to hush my restless heart with his words.

"This is, I think, one little part of what Christ meant by saying that a thing will not really live unless it first dies. It is simply no good trying to keep any thrill: that is the very worst thing you can do. Let the thrill go -- let it die away -- go on through that period of death into the quieter interest and happiness that follow -- and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills all the time. But if you decide to make thrills your regular diet and try to prolong them artificially, they will all get weaker and weaker, and fewer and fewer and you will be a bored, disillusioned old man for the rest of your life.

It is because so few people understand this that you find many middle-aged men and women maundering about their lost youth, at the very age when new horizons ought to be appearing and new doors openings all around them. It is much better fun to learn to swim than to go on endlessly (and hopelessly) trying to get back the feeling you had when you first went paddling as a small boy."

- from Mere Christianity