Dear DC

Dear DC:

Oh, this is precious.

You think that, just because I've been gone eight months, you can still get a rise out of me by trading for my (admittedly polarizing) quarterback? You think I'd take something like that personally, don't you?

DC, you are correct.

Now, DC, I know this has as much to do with the usual breathtaking forward-thinking of the Eagles' front office as anything else, but I am not talking to them right now.

I am talking to you.

So, since you insist on being yourself, let me make a few things clear.

DC, I prefer my cramped walkup apartment with no A/C to my old 1200-square-foot, rooftop pool and gym, 24-hour front desk Mass Ave shangri-la any day. That is how glad I am to not be with you.

DC, New York is more interesting, better-looking and more virile than you will ever be.

DC, they have Five Guys here. So I REALLY don't need you anymore.

DC...okay, DC, you still have Ben's and the 9:30 Club. You've got me there. And IOTA. But that's technically in Virginia, so not germane to our discussion. God, they have good fries at IOTA...

DC, Jeff Laurie may make me want to kick puppies sometimes, but Dan Snyder? Right. Discussion over before it starts, DC, and you know it.

DC, nine times out of ten...NO...nineteen times out of twenty...I was faking it.

DC, I will take the vomit and blood-spattered streets of First Avenue over any of your damn cherry blossoms any day.

DC, you may take my money, you may take my quarterback, but you will never take my freedom.

And I sweartagod, DC, if you win a Super Bowl this year, I will get on a Bolt bus, and I will come down there, and I will cut you.

And, DC, if we win a Super Bowl this year, I am deleting this blog post.

I hate you, DC. God, I hate you.

XO
R

PS Oh, and DC? If you're wondering why I live in New York and not Philadelphia, I will thank you not to change the freakin' subject. Jerk.

Scotland and Super Bowl

Although I've been back from Scotland since Sunday night, I haven't been able to get to one of NYU's precious computers, on account of the fact that 100 other kids hadn't checked their e-mail since Thursday as well.

So all apologies.

Scotland was aggressively windy and rainy, and aggressively beautiful. Edinburgh is probably one of the most gorgeous cities I've ever seen. It's bounded by the North Sea on one side, and by huge green crags on the other, with castles and gothic churches all in between. Glasgow is pretty as well, but a lot more, er, gentrified/globalized/commercialized...what you will. Anyway, there's a lot of Gap stores there, is what I'm saying. And that's not a bad thing. It just feels like any modern Western city. Edinburgh doesn't let you forget where you are. It's militantly Scottish.

It's a surpringly long way from London to Glasgow. Maybe it's surprising because my sense of British geography is woefully lacking, but during the ride up we watched Bridget Jones' Diary, Braveheart and The Full Monty and took two long breaks. We didn't get in until five in the morning.

I tried haggis. Wasn't that bad, actually. I was actually a bit disappointed it wasn't worse, as I was expecting my ingestion of sheep innards and oats to be more melodramatic. It tastes a bit like corned beef hash.

So, in summation, any country that gives me four rainbows and a lot of sheep to look at while driving through it in one day is worthy of my admiration.

I hope you all enjoyed the Super Bowl, as I was too tired to haul myself down to a pub at Leicester Square at eleven at night after being on a bus for over 10 hours. Jeffrey was kind enough to tape the "E-Trade Super Bowl Halftime Yankee Doodle Expo-Fest-A-Rama Extravaganza Show Featuring Irish Supergroup U2 in Technicolor" (or whatever they're calling halftime these days), so I'll have something to look forward to when I get home.

Robyn